If You Be Only Human
by SelahSpinshadow
Summary: [G1] A human desparate for shelter. A warrior caught in a maze of expectations. Nayla finds more with the Autobots than she ever could have expected.
1. Chapter 1: A Prayer for the Dying

  
**Author's Note:** The second book of TF: Lux Eterna. And yes, this is a completed fic, so don't ask when I'll be updating it, okay? ~_^   
**Warnings:** Death, destruction, mayhem, telepathic teens, robo-yaoi, mostly OCs   
**Disclaimer:** Transformers and it's canon characters belong to Hasbro/Takara. I claim all the OCs and take full responsibility for conjuring up the plotline of this fic. Lyrics quoted as listed.   
  


* * *

**If You Be Only Human**   
_Chapter 1: A Prayer for the Dying_

_I may not know what you're going through   
But time is the space between me and you   
There is a light through that window   
Hold on, say 'yes' while people say 'no'   
'Cause life carries on_   
- Seal, "Prayer For the Dying"   
  


August 2001

_Dead silence. As if no one else was left in all the world. And then pain. A burning, soul-wrenching pain. I hissed through clenched fists, determined not to give in to the pain. I would be strong, I would beat this. I had to beat this. I would not give in. I would be free, no matter the cost._   
  
Nayla awoke with a groan. She had known it would be difficult at best to break free, but this was beyond even her worst fears. Her whole body still tingled with remembered pain, but she was free. Such as it was. No food, no money, and, as she looked around, no idea just where she was. The moors stretched out around her, blanketed in a thick morning fog that washed out the colors of summer.   
_England. I thought we had gone to France. How is it I am in England?_   
Gingerly, she rose to her feet, taking stock of her condition. She ached abominally, from the soles of her feet to the base of her neck, but she wasn't injured beyond a few scrapes. In fact, if not for the fact that her dress and black flats were completely unsuited to cross country travel, an outsider might never think she had escaped from anything.   
_Lucky me. But first things first, Nayla. Freedom is not worth much when one is broke and on the run. And when they find out I have . . . left . . . they will surely search the whole country to find me. I do not have much time.   
An embassy, that is what I need. Perhaps I can claim asylum with the Americans. But first, I must know where I am._   
She could see a road a hundred paces north. Even better, she could see an elder gentleman leading a draft horse along the rutted dirt road. Sweeping her braided hair over her shoulders, she hurried forward.   
"Excuse me, sir? Sir?"   
"Eh?"   
"Excuse me, sir, but I am afraid I have become a bit lost. Could you direct me towards London?"   
"Aye, ya be lost all right. London's that way, 'bout 300 kilometers. You'll never make it on foot and, if you'll pardon my saying, ya don't look to have the fare for a rail pass. Get robbed, lass?"   
"Something very much like that," she confessed with a sigh. _Three hundred kilometers. So close and yet so far. Now what am I to do?_   
Nayla flinched as weapons fire erupted in the distance. She turned to see what was happening, but the fog made seeing any distance pointless. Flashes of color lit up the low-lying clouds, reds and oranges, purples and yellows. She stood transfixed, trying to make sense of what her eyes were telling her. Purple flashes.   
The roar of automobile engines suddenly filled her ears as the farmer pulled her back from the road. Seemingly from nowhere, a convoy of vehicles - several sportscars lead by a Hummer - sailed past.   
"Sorry about that!" an oddly mechanical voice called back. "You might want to get away from here though! The 'Cons aren't exactly known for playing fair!"   
"Well I'll be. . . ."   
"What . . . what just happened?"   
"If I hadnae seen it with m'own eyes. . . . That, lass, was an Autobot convoy."   
"Autobots. . . ."   
_They exist? They exist. . . . By the light, they exist_, she thought to herself in disbelief.   
"Best find a safe place away from here, lass."   
"Thank you for your help, but I know what I must do," she replied firmly. With a parting pat to the horse's flank, Nayla turned down the road and followed the trail of the Autobot convoy. It was not, perhaps, her wisest course. But it was, in her opinion, her only option.   
  


* * * * * 

  
_Geh. Fog. I hate fog. Only thing I hate more than fog is smog. And rain. Hate the rain.   
Well, then aren't you in the right place, Neo_, a familiar mental voice teased.   
_Ha. Ha. Ha. That was so funny, Morph, I almost forgot to laugh._   
Morpheus's quiet mental laugh rolled through Neo's thoughts as they sped on towards battle. The Decepticons were attacking . . . were attacking something. They had been in such a hurry to get out of the Ark that details like just what the Decepticons were doing in Yorkshire had been quietly neglected in favor of getting a strike unit together and aboard Skyfire as swiftly as possible. They would have been better served sending Omega Supreme, but the Guardian took too long to summon. So instead they made do with Skyfire, having to drive the last twenty miles because the giant white jet quietly refused to be involved in any actual fighting unless it was absolutely necessary.   
_Frustrating as hell, that. If he doesn't want to fight, then he shouldn't be part of the army.   
He isn't_, Morpheus reminded quietly. _Remember? He tried to resign completely, but Prime talked him into becoming a civilian contractor instead. We should be grateful he is willing to help us at all.   
Yeah, yeah,_ Neo sighed, keeping his sensors alert for weapons fire. They had already passed a pair of humans, out and about early, particularly for a back country road. He could see the splashes of color that indicated laser fire, but long range scans detected nothing of particular value.   
"I don't get it," he said to the whole unit over the commlink. "This is farming country. The closest thing to a major city is York, but they're not attacking that. Am I missing something?"   
_"Ours is not to question why,"_ Sideswipe started, grunting as his low-slung body bottomed out again.   
_"Ours is but to do and die. Isn't that a human saying?"_ Sunstreaker continued, muttering a slew of choice words as he bottomed out after his brother.   
_"United States Marine Corp, I believe_," Morpheus supplied.   
Conversation cut off suddenly as laser fire slammed into the ground around them. Instantly, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker transformed, opening fire on the Decepticons above. Nails quickly followed suit, crouching behind the warrior brothers with his sniper rifle.   
"Give it up, Starscream! You're not going to win!"   
"You fools! Did you really think we would come all the way to England to destroy a few farms?" Starscream gloated, his hand raised to stop the hail of laser fire from his Seeker companions. Sunstreaker raised his own hand, halting their own fire.   
"What are you talking about, Starscream?" he demanded coldly.   
"Do you really think we didn't know Optimus would send someone out here? Do you really think we care about a thing these fleshlings do?"   
"Either get to the point or get blown away," the yellow warrior growled darkly.   
"And like an idiot, Optimus sends his best warriors to chase after the Decepticon elite. Only _we_ aren't doing anything."   
Neo clenched his rifle tightly. This whole thing had felt like a set-up from the minute they had touched down. But it was out of character for Starscream to gloat over the fact without firing. Not that it was any more in character for Sunstreaker to order a halt for civilized discourse.   
"While you stand there wasting time, Decepticon warriors are striking other targets around the world. The humans are about to learn the wages of resistance are very high indeed. And there's nothing you fools can do about it!"   
"Morpheus?"   
"He's right. Teletran reports strikes in Saudi Arabia, Russia, Japan, Australia, India, Greece, Texas, and Cuba. And those are just the first reports."   
"By the Matrix. . . ."   
Starscream laughed as he transformed.   
"The humans will blame you for failing to protect them. Perhaps now you will see that the Empire is the only way."   
Neo pushed back the urge to open fire on Starscream's retreating form. As much as it would please him to blow the arrogant prat out of the skies, it wouldn't accomplish anything.   
"What now, Sunstreaker?"   
"We get moving. Morpheus, get us an update on the closest combat zone. Nails, scope the area, take stock of how much damage those creeps did before we got here. Neo, go--"   
Sunstreaker cut off suddenly as something behind them caught his attention. Neo turned around - as did most of the rest of the team - and was duly surprised to see a young woman cresting a low rise and walking towards them. Even more perplexing, it appeared to be the same woman they had passed earlier.   
"Stop me if I'm wrong," Sideswipe murmured, "but don't humans usually run away from a Decepticon attack?"   
"She is certain to have reason for this behavior," Morpheus murmured.   
"Must be some amazing reason," Neo mumbled as he subspaced his rifle. "I'll see what she says. Maybe she really _is_ just trying to get home or something like that. But I'm not betting on it."   
_Be careful, Neo_, Morpheus sent silently.   
_What are you worried about? She's just a human.   
No one is ever "just" anything, Neo_, the telepath responded silently. Neo gave his partner a confused glance before approaching the young female.   
She was small, even for a human, what Neo had heard described as slender. Deep, dark eyes gazed out onto the world seemingly unafraid, her dark hair gathered in thin braids that framed her bronzed face. Her clothing did not appear very suited to country living, and she carried nothing with her, not even a purse.   
_Curiouser and curiouser_, he thought to himself.   
"I'm sorry, Miss, but this isn't exactly a secure area. Unless you have business here, you'd be better off going back."   
"If you knew where I was coming _from_, I doubt very much that you would say that," she said quietly, her words spoken with the measured propriety Neo had come to associate with humans who had learned English as a second language. "And too, what I seek is here."   
"And what might that be?"   
"Sanctuary."   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla was quietly amazed at the size of these robot warriors. Even the shortest among them was still five times her size. The one before her was frowning down at her, as if perplexed by her words, his charcoal exterior glistening slightly as the fog condensed on his outer plating. The other four were talking quietly between themselves in what she could only assume was their native language. The yellow one was scowling fiercely, while the red one tried to comfort him. The other two, both black and boxy, were on edge, from what she could read of their gestures. The scene gave her a sense of frustration barely held in check.   
"Sanctuary? Miss, I don't know what you've heard about the Autobots. . . ."   
"Legendary warriors from another world, fighting for the right of all beings to be free. Who better, then, for me to seek, in trying to gain and keep my own freedom?"   
"Miss. . . ?"   
"Nayla. Nayla M'benga."   
"Miss M'benga, this really isn't the best time for this discussion. We're here on assignment. Now, I'm sure there are proper channels and what not that you cou--"   
"No! You do not understand, I have not the time! Please, you must help me!"   
The robot before her faced the others and for a moment the air crackled with unspoken words. She could feel a tingle between her shoulder blades, as though some great argument was being fought before her, unheard but no less real. Then the Autobot before her snorted and transformed, as did three of the other four. The remaining Autobot, one of the two boxy black robots, sat on the ground and held his hand out to her.   
"I am Morpheus. I will remain here with you until Skyfire is free," he explained while his four comrades raced off to the south. She nodded, but kept her distance, wary of these strange beings. As much as she wanted their help, she felt nervous around them. It would be so easy for them to hurt or kill her.   
"You need not fear us, Nayla. I mean you no harm."   
"I just . . . I am tired of being afraid. More, I am tired of being used. I wish only to be free. But when my father finds that I have left . . . he will not be pleased."   
"You said you sought freedom for yourself. Your mind is filled with chaotic imagery, not unlike what I might expect to see in an abuse victim."   
"My . . . my mind?"   
She flinched as his optics darkened slightly, a frown touching his aristocratic features. Then a gentle smile lit his face, his voice echoing through her thoughts.   
"I am sorry, child; I did not mean to pry. You were broadcasting your distress enough to unsettle my partner, Neo, so I thought it prudent to see why. We telepaths take privacy very seriously. I will tell no one of what I saw if you do not wish it."   
"Telepath?"   
"And a priest," he confirmed, nodding slightly. "So you see, you have no reason to fear me, child."   
"A priest . . . and a warrior. Is that common for your people?"   
"More and more," he sighed. "Our war has slowly pervaded every aspect of our lives. There are still some number that are civilians, on both sides, but fewer and fewer. But then our religions tend to be quite different from yours. I see in the Terran religions a greater tendency for the priesthood to be viewed as the ultimate pacifist vocation. Even the notion of the human paladin seems outmoded in the modern era."   
"Perhaps because we have not spent so many millennia steeped in war," she offered, working up her courage to approach him. He seemed nice enough, friendly and courteous. In fact, he almost exuded a sense of paternal warmth she had rarely encountered in her life. Not even her own father was as genuinely concerned for her welfare.   
_But why should he care for me, a stranger to him? It must be my imagination, wishful thinking that someone would want to care for me. I am certain he has his reasons . . . and equally certain that they have nothing to do with my welfare._   
"Will you help me keep my freedom? Or am I wasting my time with you Autobots?"   
"That is not for me to decide, child," he replied quietly. His gazed turned up at the sound of approaching jet engines, a sad frown touching his face for a moment.   
"Come, child," he said quietly, transforming into his vehicle mode and opening the left-hand door. She hesitated for a moment, then slid behind the wheel. She was quietly surprised at the normalness of the interior. Somehow, she had expected his passenger cabin to look like something out of a science fiction movie. Instead, the console and dashboard looked like any other vehicle, albeit oriented in the American fashion instead of the English one to which she was accustomed. Leather seating adjusted seemingly automatically to her height, though she half suspected that was Morpheus's doing. Nayla watched in quiet amusement as the steering wheel and gear shift moved on their own, Morpheus's engine purring as he followed the rough road southward.   
Within moments, a giant white jet flew into view, landing a few dozen meters ahead of them. Nayla could hardly believe her own eyes as she took in the sheer size of the airplane ahead of them. Unfazed, Morpheus drove straight up and into the plane. He called out something, then opened his side door.   
"Ordinarily, I would let you remain within me, but the return trip will be made at subsonic speeds to ease Skyfire's power usage."   
"In simpler terms," another voice said, the tone touched with amusement, "I am too tired to make the return trip in anything less than eight hours. I have no supplies aboard, however, I can make a mid-air transfer in about an hour."   
"Can you not also refuel in mid-air?"   
"In theory, yes. But even that will still be an hour or more, as all aerial combat units are currently otherwise occupied."   
"I did not think you were in such a hurry, Miss M'benga," Morpheus commented, transforming once she was a safe distance from him.   
"I . . . am worried for what will happen when my father finds that I am no longer where he expects me. I fear the Autobots will be less willing to help when he forwards his case."   
"And why would you fear that?"   
"Because I am only 17," she sighed, seating herself and staring down at her hands. The relative silence that followed scuttled her hopes. She was a minor according to both English and American law; in the eyes of the law, Skyfire and Morpheus had kidnapped her, even though she had sought them out. Not for the first time, Nayla wished she had never been born a telekinetic.   
"Never wish that, child," Morpheus murmured. She felt a touch on her arm, her surprise growing as she saw a thin sheet of plastic rise off the deck and fold into a chair, seemingly of its own accord.   
"I did actually have a reason for carrying those sheets around, Morpheus. Grapple isn't going to be happy with you."   
"He will understand," the warrior priest murmured. "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, Nayla. Your age is no excuse for abuse. Do not underestimate us."   
"Thank you, Morpheus, but you will understand if I am reluctant to be reassured."   
"Of course, child."   
"I'm afraid I don't have much to offer in the way of entertainment, but if you would like to watch a movie, I could arrange for that."   
"Thank you, Skyfire. I would like that very much."   
With a start, Nayla realized early morning in England meant midnight in western America. Or earlier. _A long day indeed_, she thought to herself. Sighing, she tried to make herself comfortable.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla started upright, surprised to find she had not only fallen asleep, but that she was resting in the passenger seat of a PT Cruiser that had no driver. She was being driven through a light mist, tall trees close to the road making it impossible to tell what time of day it was.   
"Ah, welcome back to the world of the conscious, Nayla. Do you remember where you are?"   
"I . . . woke up in England. Then you came. I was watching _Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon_ . . . I believe the movie was nearly finished, and then . . . I awoke here. Are we in America now?"   
"I suppose you would find those the salient points. And yes, we are in America now, northern Oregon at the moment, though we will be crossing back over the Columbia River again soon."   
"Why?"   
"For the same reason I put you to sleep: it would not be appropriate for you to be at the Ark at the moment."   
"I do not understand."   
"Of course you don't, child. But be assured, I know of what I speak. Later, when debriefings are complete, losses tabulated, and governments soothed, then you will be welcomed. Until then, you will have to settle for my poor company."   
"You are hardly 'poor' company," she murmured, adjusting her seat to it's upright position. "But I am a bit confused what it is you intend us to do while we wait."   
"If there is someplace you wish to go, I will take you there. Otherwise, we will simply drive around until. . . ."   
He trailed off suddenly as his radio crackled to life, a sharp tenor barking out. Morpheus replied with stern phrases, the words sounding harsh and irritated.   
"What is happening?" she asked quietly, afraid his anger would be directed at her next.   
"The British military has posted a reward for your return or any clues to your kidnapping. Teletran-1 has already traced your identity; Prowl was not pleased to find we had technically kidnapped a general's daughter. You should have said something."   
"I _did_ say something, Morpheus. You said you saw my thoughts. . . ."   
"Only the uppermost thoughts. I would never scan your mind without permission."   
"I am sorry, then. I thought you knew. My father . . . as a warrior, surely you can see the value of someone who can move things with her mind. Destroy things at a distance without the use of explosives. My skills are not particularly strong, but then I am untrained. They intended to train me to help them in combat. I have no desire to be used to kill."   
"If you will let me scan your thoughts, then I will be better able to make my report. Is this acceptable to you?"   
"If it will assure that you will not return me to my father, then yes."   
"I cannot promise that, but I will present your case truthfully to the High Command."   
"I understand," Nayla replied with a quiet sigh. It was, she supposed, the best she was going to achieve. She would have to hope that her ordeal spoke for itself.   
  


* * * * * 

  
". . . find that she was repeatedly abused, mentally and emotionally more than physically, because she refused to do as they wished. While a claim can be made that we have a responsibility to return her to her family, we would be negligent to return her to those conditions."   
"There are times when I wonder why we fight so hard to protect a society that will do that to it's own members."   
"All species are entitled to the freedom to make their own way in the universe, Jazz," Prowl replied gently.   
"I know, I know . . . but this is really too much. What're ya gonna tell Prime?"   
"What can we tell him? To deny her request for asylum would be . . . unthinkable."   
"And the mess with her family?"   
"Morpheus?"   
"She will be eighteen in a few weeks. Perhaps stalling tactics would be our best posture? If we can delay her family until after her birthday, it will become a moot point."   
"The Americans will have a field day with this," Jazz pointed out, toying with a comppad. "I can just see the headlines now: Autobots kidnap foreign national. You gents just love making my life more difficult, don't you?"   
"Unfortunately, I believe the American media will be too busy reporting on our utter failure to protect the world from the Decepticon attacks today."   
"Why do you think I'm down here instead of up in the command center? I have no desire to face Optimus until I absolutely have to, never mind the press. Or Red Alert."   
Prowl visibly winced, his doors flexing. Morpheus could sympathize. He knew they were all here, in Prowl's quarters, for the same reason: to hide. Optimus was locked in his office, in a funk over the day's events. Red Alert was very nearly driving the entire base crazy, ranting to anyone he could pin down for more than two seconds. Which was probably why more than half the base's compliment of Autobots were either out of the base or locked away.   
"Should probably call her in, talk to her or something," Jazz said after a moment.   
"The Ark does not have the facilities to properly board a human guest for more than a few days."   
"Not yet, but it could. An architectural challenge for Grapple."   
"We should consult with Optimus," Prowl ventured.   
"You know he'll go along with whatever you recommend, Prowl. So make a decision already."   
"It's not my place to decide, Jazz."   
"Please, do not send me away."   
All three Mechs turned sharply, surprised at the interruption. Nayla stood just inside the doorway, looking all the more frail and vulnerable next to Neo. Dark eyes looked up at them, filled with pleading.   
"How in the. . . ?"   
"Sorry to interrupt, but she was getting worried. There wasn't an answer to the chime, so. . . ."   
Prowl cast an inquisitive look at Jazz.   
"Oops. Sorry. Guess I turned it off. . . ."   
"Please . . . please do not send me away. I have come so far. . . ."   
"And broken so many laws. . . ."   
"Jazz, please," Prowl admonished. "Miss M'benga, I don't have the authority to grant you refuge with us. Worse, your actions have placed our relations with the nations of Earth in danger. If you leave Autobot land, the Americans will consider you an illegal alien and have you deported. The British are demanding your return on behalf of your father. Your timing could not have been worse."   
"I am sorry but please, I cannot return to my father."   
"Do you understand that if you are deported you will be sent back to Senegal and denied any form of visa to re-enter the United States?"   
"Better that than returned to my father."   
"Very well," Prowl sighed heavily. "Neo, find some form of quarters for Miss M'benga. When the situation is appropriate, I will speak with Optimus and recommend that you be granted temporary asylum pending a full investigation."   
"Thank you, sir," the young woman replied formally.   
"Don't thank me yet. Though it may sound that I have ruled in your favor, you may find yourself with more than you bargained for."   
"I will gladly take on whatever duties you would assign, so long as I am no longer forced to use my talents to hurt or kill people. I am not a warrior. I do not wish to become a warrior."   
"Then welcome to the Ark, Nayla." 


	2. Chapter 2: On the Ground

  
**Author's Note:** The second book of TF: Lux Eterna. And yes, this is a completed fic, so don't ask when I'll be updating it, okay? ~_^   
**Warnings:** Death, destruction, mayhem, telepathic teens, robo-yaoi, mostly OCs   
**Disclaimer:** Transformers and it's canon characters belong to Hasbro/Takara. I claim all the OCs and take full responsibility for conjuring up the plotline of this fic. Lyrics quoted as listed.   
  


* * *

**If You Be Only Human**   
_Chapter 2: On the Ground_

_And they say that a hero can save us   
I'm not gonna stand here and wait   
I'll hold on to the wings of the eagles   
Watch as we all fly away_   
- Chad Kroeger, "Hero"  
  


March 2001

Variance stepped off the transport, surveying the riot of color around him. Greens and browns predominated, the plant life only grudgingly giving ground before the construction crews of Autobot City. He lingered at the edge of the tarmac a moment, watching as Autobots and construction drones worked tirelessly on the scaffolds around the slowly growing city. It was, in a way, an inspiring testament to the Autobot spirit. But, while the supplies with which he had arrived were intended for the city project, his destination was somewhere else entirely.   
Stepping off the tarmac, Variance dropped into his retooled vehicle mode for the first time. It felt strange to actually feel a connection with the ground, and yet there was a certain . . . primal fulfillment to feeling the road beneath his tires. He shifted into low gear, determined to ease into this business of tires and traction. Gravel crunched under his tires as he turned onto the rough road connecting Autobot City and the Ark.   
Gravel soon gave way to asphalt, the road humming to him as he drove along it. The road cut a peaceful swath through the pines of central Oregon, eventually joining with a major highway. From there, it was easy enough to find his way across the singing bridge arched across the wide rush of water that was the Columbia River, and beyond, to the Ark.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Gravel once more crunched under Variance's tires as he rolled to a stop outside the Ark. He paused for only a moment before transforming once more, a bit overwhelmed to see Prowl waiting under the overhang.   
"Variance, correct?"   
"Uh, yes sir."   
"Good. No kit? I was under the impression this was to be a long-term assignment?"   
"Ah, well, I don't really have that much in terms of personal items."   
"No, of course not," Prowl murmured, more to himself than to Variance. "You have one week of re-orientation leave, however, you may still be called upon in case of an emergency."   
Prowl gave Variance what felt like a very abrupt and perfunctory tour, ending in what looked suspiciously like the lounge of suite quarters. A charcoal grey and black warrior was hunched over the lounge's workstation, tapping furiously at the keypad, his head bobbing slightly to the thumping bass line of the music pouring out of the stereo.   
"Neo!"   
The warrior glanced back briefly then spun around as he stood up, shock clear in his youthful face. A flick of his wrist and the music died abruptly.   
"Uh, sorry, Boss. Didn't hear ya come in," he offered with an apologetic smile.   
"Little wonder," Prowl murmured. Rather than appearing chastised, the Mech only grinned wider.   
"Yes, well, be that as it may, I am here for a reason. Variance here will be quartering with you."   
"Where are we gonna put him? We've already got six."   
"This is an eight-occupancy apartment, Neo. Adjust."   
"Well, I suppose there's always th--"   
"You will not put him on the floor," Prowl reprimanded, but his optics almost held an amused sparkle.   
"Oh all right," Neo mumbled, still grinning. "Come on, let's get you settled before he spoils any more fun."   
Variance wasn't sure what to think as Prowl walked out of the apartment.   
"I've . . . missed something important, haven't I?"   
"Important? Like what? And where's your kit?"   
"I, um, don't have one."   
"Oh, well, um, I guess I can still show you around. This here is the lounge, where we spend a fair amount of time, when we're not out somewhere else. Those two doors lead into the sleep rooms. To your left, the room for Fallout, Striker, Nails, and Duotone. To your right, my room. Okay, okay, mine and Morpheus's room. And now I guess you'll be in with us. There's only two berths in each room, but it's not like that's a big problem, right? Just adjust your cycle a little and I'm sure you'll fit in fine."   
"You don't want me here, do you?" Variance murmured, avoiding Neo's gaze by glancing around the lounge.   
"What? Oh . . . well, Morph and I have been spoiled, really, having the room all to ourselves. Besides, as cute as you are, how can anyone resist?"   
Variance tried not to gape at his new roommate.   
"Oh Primus . . . I've embarrassed you, haven't I? I'm sorry. I didn't mean, well, I _did_ mean it, but I didn't mean to embarrass you. Well, um, why don't we forget all about it and I'll just show you the . . . oh boy. . . ."   
Variance found himself smiling in spite of himself. A smile that quickly turned into a decidedly less than dignified giggle. He tried to control himself, but the confused look on Neo's face only made him laugh harder. In a moment, they were both laughing.   
Neo and Variance were on the floor, laughing like loons, when the door opened. A dark shape blocked most of the door but while he was fairly certain he was making a terrible impression on whoever was standing in the doorway, Variance couldn't stop laughing.   
"Well, isn't this a fine sight. Neo, what have you done now?"   
Neo coughed a couple times, trying to regain control. But then their optics met again and he broke down into helpless giggles. Variance was starting to actually feel guilty when the bulky black Mech walked over and hauled Neo to his feet. As quickly as they had started, Neo's giggles suddenly cut off. The dark charcoal grey warrior took a moment to compose himself, pulling the other Mech's hand free from his shoulder ridge. In the face of Neo's continued sobriety, Variance found his own laughing calming quickly.   
"Morph, this is our new roommate, Variance. Vari, this is Morpheus, our unit commander."   
"Pleasure, sir," Variance replied demurely.   
"We don't stand on formalities here at home, Variance. Especially not when I return to find you rolling on the floor with Neo," the commander smiled. Variance felt his internal temperature flush with embarrassment at the first impression he must have made on his new commander. Morpheus struck an imposing figure in shades of black and hematite, aristocratic features displaying a warm smile at the moment. He was all around bulkier, boxier than Neo's lanky form, with an air of controlled power, but a gentle demeanor.   
"How are you settling in, Variance?"   
"Um, well, we still haven't made it to the sleep room," he confessed, fighting back another bout of laughter.   
"Neo. . . ."   
"Hey, Prowl hand-delivered him. I figure he knows where stuff is. You know what the boss is like. Vari here's probably been on Earth for _hours_."   
"Hours?" Variance asked in confusion.   
"According to the logs, he's been on Earth for three hours, and most of that was in transit. Come, Variance, and I'll show you around your new home."   
"Hold up! I'll come with you!"   
"Neo. . . ."   
"Hey, it's my day off, Morph. Come on, Vari."   
Variance couldn't help but be amused as Neo snagged his arm and practically dragged him out of the apartment. He was acutely aware of the vibrant energy Neo exuded, an excitement and zest for life that was contagious. Neo and Morpheus shared the duty of escorting him around the Ark, working together with the easy familiarity of partners who had been together a long time. For the first time, he began to wonder where he would fit on the team. Granted, he was only seeing a part of it, but as well as Morpheus and Neo worked together, he suspected this team was already a well-integrated unit, with little to no room for the odd-bot-out: him.   
"We have been short two members for so long," Morpheus said suddenly as they walked away from the Ark, "I was beginning to think Prowl was turning us into a unit of six. You have a week of re-orientation ahead of you yet, Variance. Perhaps at the end of that you won't feel so out of place."   
"What will it involve? This re-orientation, I mean. And, um, how long _is_ a 'week'?"   
Morpheus settled on a rock outcropping, Neo almost immediately perching at his side. Variance smothered a smile at Neo's playful affection as he found an outcropping of his own.   
"Prowl leads a daily seminar course on the various cultures of Earth. It is something of an ongoing lecture and discussion series; Neo occasionally sits in on a session. But the typical newcomer takes the course for seven to ten days before cycling on to their more permanent assignment.   
"While on Earth, you will frequently run across human time measurements. You will have to adjust to a twenty-four hour day cycle as well. A week is seven days."   
Morpheus was about to say more when the raucous cries of disturbed and scolding birds filled the air. A red Autobot car exploded out of the forested margin, half a meter off the ground. A yellow Autobot similarly appeared a moment later. Both landed hard on their tires, kicking up a cloud of dust. Like maniacs, the two vehicles raced up the dirt track to the Ark, fishtailing as they slewed to a halt in a spray of dust and gravel. The yellow Autobot transformed with a smirk.   
"Told you I'd beat you, Side."   
"Eh, how was I supposed to know you'd sacrifice your precious patina, Sun?"   
"Beating you is always worth it, Bro."   
"Well," a new voice added, "now that you've shaved a couple of years off my life, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, remind me to never ride with you again."   
"Aww, where's your sense of adventure, Dana?" the red Autobot chuckled as an alien being Variance's processors called a human stepped out of the vehicle's passenger compartment.   
"Being overruled by my sense of self-preservation, Sideswipe. Now, if you'll excuse me. . . ."   
"Sure thing. Have fun with Prowl!" Sideswipe called out as he transformed. "Oh, hey Morpheus, Neo. New transfer?"   
"Yeah, fresh off the transport this morning," Neo responded before Variance could speak for himself. "Guys, this is Variance. Vari, I'd like you to meet the near-legendary Lambourghini Twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker."   
"Oh please . . . you're gonna make Sun's ego even worse," Sideswipe replied as he reached out to clasp arms with Variance. The dusky blue warrior was pleasantly surprised to be greeted as an equal by the grinning Autobot.   
"_Can_ it get any worse?" Neo teased. Sunstreaker faked a quick punch to Neo's flank before nodding a greeting. Sideswipe shook his head and gave his brother a playful punch to the shoulder.   
"Come on, Bro, be polite. Variance is a warrior too, you know. You're not gonna get civie-cooties, right Var?"   
"Tactician in training," he agreed offering his hand to the yellow warrior.   
"Oh Prowl's just going to _love_ you," Sunstreaker purred, briefly clasping Variance's hand. Something about his tone of voice was even more disturbing than his unwillingness to meet Variance as an equal. Sideswipe sighed with a martyred look, then herded his brother into the Ark.   
"See ya 'round," he called back cheerfully.   
"Did I say something wrong?" Variance asked quietly.   
"Huh? Oh, Sunstreaker. . . . Nah, he's like that with everyone. Comes off as a superior, unrepentant jerk when you first meet him. Once you get to know him, you find out that, underneath it all, he's really just an egotistical jerk."   
"There _are_ other sides to him" Morpheus asserted gently.   
"Yeah, all variations on the jerk theme," Neo griped. "Can't deny he's a military powerhouse and a devastating field commander, but he sure don't do a thing to make himself likeable."   
"He's not here to make friends," Morpheus murmured, an odd sadness coloring his voice. "He's here to kill Decepticons."   
Variance watched the sadness drift from Morpheus to Neo, then echo back again. He didn't know what to say.   
After a moment, whatever was bothering his two guides seemed to pass. Neo surged to his feet and wrapped a friendly arm around Variance's shoulders.   
"Come on, Vari. How about a road trip? You, me, and I-5. How's that sound?"   
"Um. . . ."   
"Neo, re-orientation leave doesn't mean Prowl doesn't have plans for him. Besides, your day off won't last much longer."   
"Aww, come _on_ Morph. I'm not heading cross-country. I just want to take him down to the gorge."   
"Neo. . . ."   
"Duck down to Hood River, drive around a little, then straight back. Please?"   
"That doesn't even take you _near_ I-5," Morpheus asserted quietly.   
"Fewer drivers around, so Vari can adjust to crazy humans easier. You know what they say. Experience is the best way to adapt to the changed alt-mode. Besides, how's he supposed to get orientated to Earth if we don't take him anywhere, hmm? Come on, Morph, please?"   
Morpheus remained obstinant for a time, but Neo's pleading look was having the desired impact. With a sigh, Morpheus threw his hands into the air.   
"I swear, I don't know why I try with you anymore, Neo. Just be sure you get clearance for this. And try to be back here before night shift ends, all right?"   
"Yee-haw! Come on, Vari!"   
"Neo! Get clearance!" Morpheus demanded.   
"I did! My unit commander said it was okay!" Neo grinned, tugging on Variance's arm.   
"Neo, maybe we should ask someone higher up. Just to be safe," he cautioned, trying to subtly free his arm. Neo gasped with an almost scandalized look.   
"You want me to go over Morpheus's head?"   
"As if you wouldn't have done just that if your pouting hadn't worked," the hematite black commander murmured.   
"Hey! I resemble that remark!"   
"You two aren't fighting again, are you? What did he do this time, Morpheus?"   
"Morph and I don't fight. And why do you just assume this is my fault?" Neo pouted.   
"Jazz's Rules for Life, #283: Never blame the priest, if you can help it."   
"You do not have two hundred and eighty-three rules for life, Jazz," Neo declared matter-of-factly.   
"Well, you're partly right. I have over two thousand," the visored Autobot replied with a grin. "And you must be Variance. Sorry you only had Prowl to meet you earlier; Prime had the rest of the brass in a meeting."   
"That's quite all right," he murmured in response as he clasped arms with the communications expert.   
"So, what _are_ they arguing about?"   
"Ah, well, Neo wants to take me out to a place called Hood River and back. Morpheus approved the trip, so he doesn't see the point in asking someone else."   
"Typical," Jazz replied with a wide grin. "Well, as long as you're back by midnight, I don't see any problem with it. I'll log you out myself, in fact. Have fun!"   
Variance wasn't sure how much fun he would be having, but Neo's enthusiasm was hard to ignore. By the time they reached a human-created road, he actually found himself enjoying the scenery and even looking forward to reaching their destination.   
  


* * * * * 

  
"This is probably one of my favorite places to be in the evening," Neo murmured. After spending the afternoon driving around, Neo had brought them to a place called Spirit Lake. Reflected stars sparkled on the water's surface and the crisp night air was filled with the sounds of native wildlife.   
"I like to come out here and just watch the stars, usually by myself, though sometimes I'll bring Morph."   
Variance said nothing, not sure how to respond. He didn't want to intrude on some private place, though by the looks of things, this lake was hardly that.   
"We should head back," he said quietly, gazing up at the field of somewhat alien stars. For the first time all day, it struck him just how far he was from everything he had ever known. The sky, filtered through a denser atmosphere than he was accustomed to experiencing and at a different orientation to the galaxy, looked very different from that of Cybertron. Even Cybertron's starscape was different from the spectrum of his youth.   
"It's still early, Vari. Come on, pull up some grass and chat awhile."   
He saw no point in reminding Neo that they had been chatting for hours, discussing everything from their respective careers to the differences in their sigils - Neo's was spy operative black to his own standard red. Neo had that look that Variance had already learned meant he wouldn't take "no" for an answer. Suppressing the urge to sigh, he settled a carefully polite distance from his teammate, leaning back to stare up at the stars. Neo reclined onto his back, grinning as he folded his hands under his head.   
"I'll admit it, this planet has really grown on me," Neo confessed. In the faint light of a thin sliver of a moon, Neo's charcoal grey almost melted into the darkness, his faintly glowing optics floating in the inky night like a pair of pale cobalt e-bugs.   
"It _is_ very colorful."   
"And alive. There are days when I can lay out here and practically feel the grass growing."   
Variance smiled down at Neo, quickly suppressing a bolt of shock at seeing the operative had somehow slid closer. Not enough to be considered improper, but enough to be noticeable. And close enough to make Variance a little uncomfortable.   
"So, um, what's the deal with you and Morpheus?" he asked, quickly filling the silence. "I thought having a relationship with your commanding officer was considered improper."   
"He wasn't my commander when we bonded," Neo replied, his smile suddenly fading. "Morpheus rescued me from a terrible situation, kept me from making an even worse mistake. He taught me how to control my gift, and quite a few other things as well. I think he resisted the attraction at first because he didn't want to feed into any savior illusions I might have been having. At least, that's what he told himself. With all the training to control my gift, I already knew he wasn't some glittering savior. He was Morpheus and that was enough for me.   
"When I was approached to train in special ops, I jumped at the chance and dragged Morpheus along for the ride. Through him, I already knew a fair amount about espionage; he himself had learned a great deal from caring for Remix and building the other Autobot cassettes. We went through the course pretty fast, surprising everybody. Turned out that the kid - me - and the priest - Morpheus - had a knack for covert operations, and a natural partnership, never mind our being bondmates. They kept us together as a working team, and that just strengthened our bond."   
_So if you're bonded to him, why do you keep flirting with me?_ Variance thought to himself.   
"Go ahead and ask," Neo purred in amusement, his optics dimming slightly.   
"Ask what?"   
"I know you have a question you're dying to ask. I can practically hear you thinking it from here. So ask already."   
"Can not," Variance muttered, keeping his gaze focused out across the lake.   
"Can too. And I'm not even a high-grade telepath like Morpheus."   
Neo's fingertips touched his cheek and he shied away, startled at the sudden contact.   
"Variance?" Neo murmured, a worried frown clear in his tone. Again he reached out to touch Variance, and again Variance shied away.   
"Please don't."   
"Var? What is it? What's wrong?"   
"It may not matter to you, but can we please just be friends first?   
"Um, yeah, of course."   
An uncomfortable pause hung in the air between them before Neo spoke again: "Variance, what's wrong?"   
"I'm going back to the Ark."   
"Wait!" Neo called out, and he latched onto Variance's arm, refusing to let him stand. "Talk to me, Var. Don't leave like this."   
"Let go of me."   
"Not until you tell me what I did to chase you away."   
"Neo . . . let go. . . ."   
"Please, Vari. We were together all afternoon and you didn't act like this."   
"You weren't touching me then," he hissed. Something sparked in Neo's optics and an odd warmth suddenly rose from the contact point of his hand. Variance flinched and tried to pull away again.   
"Release me. . . ."   
"Variance, I really do want to spend more time with you. . . ."   
"Please don't make this any harder than it already is."   
Variance finally pulled free. Stepping away from Neo, he dropped into vehicle mode, then paused to get his bearings.   
"If not me . . . Morpheus is a good listener."   
He said nothing, simply drove back towards the Ark. Now there would be tension in the team, and Variance couldn't help thinking it was all his fault. Maybe he would talk to Prowl about a change of team. He didn't need to be disrupting a good team with his personal problems.   
_I'm sorry, Neo,_ he thought to himself. _It's not you. It's me._


	3. Chapter 3: The Human Perspective

  
**Author's Note:** The second book of TF: Lux Eterna. And yes, this is a completed fic, so don't ask when I'll be updating it, okay? ~_^   
**Warnings:** Death, destruction, mayhem, telepathic teens, robo-yaoi, mostly OCs   
**Disclaimer:** Transformers and it's canon characters belong to Hasbro/Takara. I claim all the OCs and take full responsibility for conjuring up the plotline of this fic. Lyrics quoted as listed.   
  


* * *

**If You Be Only Human**   
_Chapter 3: The Human Perspective_

_Cast your eyes on the ocean   
Cast your soul to the sea   
When the dark night seems endless   
Please remember me_   
- Loreena McKennitt, "Dante's Prayer"  
  


August 2001

There is a danger in loving, a vulnerability in letting one's self care about others. It is in caring that one can be hurt the most deeply. In caring for others, a door is left open, one that pain can exploit in full measure. Variance was no stranger to pain, but this pain was terribly unique.   
"Dana? Dana! Oh Primus. . . ."   
"Variance. . . ?"   
"I'm right here, Dana. Hold on. I'll have a doctor here in a flash."   
"Variance . . . I'm not gonna make it. . . ."   
"Don't say that. Of course you will," Variance countered, trying to keep the desperation from his voice.   
"I'm too old a soldier to believe that Variance. . . ."   
_So much blood. . . . Primus, what do I do?_   
"It's been . . . an honor . . . knowing you. . . ."   
"Dana?"   
"Raise you glass . . . and remember me. . . ."   
"Dana?!?"   
All around him, the buildings of the old Navy Pier smoldered in the aftermath of the hail of Decepticon laser bolts, but Variance couldn't see them. He knelt beside the man who had been his teacher and closest friend through six months of re-orientation and training and watched in helpless agony as the light faded from his eyes.   
_This is my fault. I shouldn't've left him. I knew something was wrong. I should have listened to my instincts, should have gotten us out of here. I never should have left him alone. I messed up and now. . . . Oh Primus. . . ._   
"Sir? Sir, we need you to move. Sir?"   
"I don't think he can hear you, Officer."   
"Sir? Sir, the paramedics can't get past you."   
"Do we even know if he understands a word we're saying?"   
"I thought all Autobots knew English."   
"Sir, if you can understand us, please acknowledge."   
"Gentlemen. . . ."   
Only when the familiar basso of Morpheus's voice reached him did Variance acknowledge that he had heard anything at all. A slow shudder rattled the aerofoil across the dusky blue tactician's shoulders. He didn't want to believe what his optics were seeing, didn't want to believe that Dana could be dead.   
"_Easy Variance,_" Morpheus murmured in their native language. _"Show me what happened._"   
Variance dutifully recalled that horrifying moment as he watched, helpless, while the Combaticons assaulted the Old Navy Pier of Chicago. At first he was surprised by the lack of emotion he felt reviewing the memories for Morpheus. Then he realized that the telepath was blocking out the emotions for him.   
"_Skyfire is waiting._"   
Variance nodded, but otherwise felt frozen in place. He knew he needed to move, needed to transform, but something held him immobile. He couldn't take his optics off of Dana's limp body in his hands, couldn't make himself accept that his friend was truly dead.   
_Easy, Variance, easy_, the telepath's mindvoice whispered through his thoughts, a familiar touch. Another tremor shook through him as he realized just how many humans were pressed around, some trying to fight the smoldering fires, others just anxious to see what had happened. Then he felt a wash of calm from Morpheus.   
"Sirs . . . about the --"   
"Dana is . . . was my responsibility."   
"We will take him with us," Morpheus clarified. "Variance. . . ."   
A slight psychic nudge and Variance set down Dana's body so he could ease back into his vehicle mode. He watched Morpheus awe the surrounding humans to silence as he telekinetically wrapped Dana's body in a cloth before sliding him into the rear portion of Variance's passenger compartment. He felt an increase in Morpheus's presence in his thoughts as his tires left the asphalt. The world shifted as he was turned around to face the hematite warrior-priest. The telepath offered a small smile as he spoke to the humans: "If you will excuse us, we will get our of your way."   
"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. . . ."   
Morpheus turned and dropped down into his vehicle mode, then slowly lead Variance to Skyfire. Variance tried very hard not to think about anything. He was only somewhat successful.   
  


* * * * * 

  
"You're really lucky, I hope you know that," Neo rumbled down at the teen beside him. "I'm surprised they didn't give us a good long lecture . . . probably only because Jazz switched off the door chime," he continued. The dark charcoal operative tried not to think about their recent close encounter too hard. But his companion apparently had other ideas.   
"I do not understand," the dark-skinned human replied, gazing up at him with dark, innocent-seeming eyes.   
"It's only because the door was unlocked that I was able to get us in. I'm only Sec4; that's not enough to get into _Prowl_'s quarters."   
"I still do not understand," the slender girl replied, a perplexed frown gracing her dark features. For all her former confidence, Nayla was still very much a wary and uncertain young girl, surrounded by strangers. On the other hand, she had sought out their help and was now seeking asylum with the Autobots.   
"What's so hard to understand?"   
"You say I am lucky. Why?"   
"Prowl's not just some high-ranking officer; he and Jazz run this ship when Prime's not around. They're seconds and what they say carries a lot of weight with Prime. Somehow, someone's convinced Prowl that the logical course of action is to recommend support for your petition. It's possible Prime might disagree . . . but chances are he won't. _That's_ why you're so lucky."   
Nayla said nothing more as they made slow progress through the halls of the Ark. Neo knew he was supposed to be finding quarters for Nayla. Unfortunately, the Ark was not designed with quarters for humans and Neo didn't really know what to do with her. Bumblebee knew the most about humans staying at the Ark, but he was down at the city site. Which left Variance.   
"Variance? Hey Vari, I know you're in here. . . ."   
"Lemme alone," came the muffled reply. Neo walked further into the apartment, surprised to find Variance laying face-down on the couch, his head resting on crossed arms. He had known of Dana's death earlier that morning, but he hadn't expected this sort of reaction from his friend. Thankfully, Nayla was too uncertain of her place to wander any farther than the door.   
"Vari," he coaxed, brushing the aerofoil on his friend's shoulders and back as he stood before the couch. The tactician flinched but didn't even lift his head.   
"Hey now, Vari," he murmured, "take it easy. It's just me, Neo. I know you're hurting, but I need your help."   
"Lemme 'lone," Variance muttered in response. Neo sighed, crouching down to rest his hand on his friend's upper arm. The mech flinched again, a shuddering sigh pushing out of his systems.   
"I know," Neo whispered, gently stroking what he could of the tactician's upper arm, "I know you're in pain and I don't like asking . . . but I need to put Nayla somewhere and I don't know where."   
Variance finally lifted his head from his forearms, turning his head slightly to meet Neo's gaze. The special operative was shocked at the dimness of Variance's optics, and at the haggard expression on his face. Without thinking, he cupped the tactician's cheek, stroking his thumb along the ridge. So he was doubly surprised when Variance not only failed to shy away, but actually switched off his optics and leaned into the caress.   
"Where did Dana stay when he spent the night? Was he always with us?"   
"After the first month, yeah," Variance sighed. "Their apartment is up by Bumblebee, Corridor 27, section 32."   
"Thanks hon," Neo murmured, fighting back the urge to kiss Variance's cheek; he didn't want to push his luck.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla looked around what she could only assume were private quarters, overwhelmed by the scale. She had never felt tall, but the Autobots made her feel even smaller than normal. Even the desk was above her head, the chair's seat hitting her just below her shoulders. It was unsettling, to say the least. So she hung back by the door, afraid to move and then go unnoticed when her much taller escort moved her way once more.   
After all the signage in square-cut alien glyphs, she was surprised to realize the two robots were speaking to each other in English. A twinge of guilt wrinkled through her when she heard this other robot was in pain. Curious, she tried to touch his thoughts. The pain was obvious, permeating his every thought with the anguish of loss. Some sort of personal loss, though she couldn't make sense of what had been lost. Chaotic images passed through her telepathic sight, mostly images of Autobots and an alien world, then newer images from Earth.   
"Nayla?"   
The touch of Neo's hand on her back sent a jolt through her as images of violence observed shot through her mind. She mentally pulled back into herself, desperate to cover her surprise and terrified of being caught snooping through someone else's thoughts. But if her escort even noticed, he gave no sign of it.   
"Nayla, let's get you settled, shall we?"   
She smiled quietly, curious but not willing to ask questions just yet. Instead she followed Neo in silence through the imposing vessel, hopelessly lost.   
_Why am I here? They say they will help, but will they truly help? What am I to do with my life now?_   
"Try not to worry too much," Neo murmured gently, startling her out of her thoughts. "Prowl's sure to think of something you can do. Place your palm on the plate there and the door will key to your print. This is just a temporary measure, until we can get you set up with something more permanent. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."   
"Are you leaving?" she asked, her hand frozen over the door plate. She was actually disturbed by the thought of being alone, and that frightened her almost as much. After so many years of wanting nothing so much as space to herself, the idea of being left alone in an alien environment terrified her.   
"Whoa, hey, easy now. If it's going to be that much of a problem, I'll call in, okay?"   
"How. . . ?"   
"Telepath, forth level. That and you need to learn how not to project. It's not likely to bother other Autobots, but humans can get headaches if you aren't careful."   
Relief washed through her when she realized he would stay with her and she let her hand drop to the door plate. The plate warmed to her touch, a red light scanning over her palm and fingers. Nayla pulled her hand back with a sudden yelp, surprised to see a tiny spot of blood welling up in the palm of her hand.   
"The door . . . it _bit_ me!"   
"What? Oh . . . yeah, I forgot about that. Security measure. Your prints can be copied or obscured, but your DNA structure is unique to you. Plus, if something should happen, we'll have your bio data on file."   
"Oh. . . ."   
Nayla peered inside the open door, surprised to see a generous apartment scaled to her size, with a lofted second level. Unlike the corridor outside, the apartment appeared very human, from the marble tile entry to the vaulted stucco ceiling. Even the style of decoration was human, if more . . . modernistic than she tended to like.   
"I thought Prowl said you have no facilities to board humans. What, then, is this?"   
"The Whitwhickies apartment. They're gone for the month."   
"You did not know where I could stay, yet you know what this place is?"   
"Everyone knows about Spike and Carly. Not everyone knows where they live. This should be fine for a little while."   
Nayla nodded, hesitantly stepping into the entry, which was large enough for Neo to stand upright comfortably. She could see a generous kitchen and an office on the first floor. The decorative wrought iron spiral staircase led up to a small landing with a wooden railing, then two bedrooms and a sitting room. The marble tiling of the first floor was replaced with hardwood on the second floor, the walls all dressed and painted in subdued, pastel tones. She was rather impressed with the sense of modern comfort and luxury . . . and wealth.   
"They must be quite important, to have this place," she murmured, in awe of the artwork in the sitting room.   
"Yeah, I suppose they are. Spike was one of the first humans to really make contact with the Autobots and make an alliance. He's not exactly an ambassador, but that might be close."   
She pulled a small ottoman out onto the lofted landing. At least from the second level she didn't feel quite so small. And it would allow her to have a civilized conversation with Neo.   
"I do not mean to pry, but . . . your friend. . . ."   
"Variance. What about him?"   
"He seemed to be in such pain. . . ."   
"Well aren't we the curious little kitten?"   
"Pardon?"   
"I don't see how Vari's personal life is any of your business."   
"I am sorry," she murmured, lowering her gaze. "His pain was so strong. . . ."   
"Of course it was," Neo snapped. "He blames himself for Dana's death!"   
"I am sorry," she whispered, sinking in on herself. Anger tainted the air, touched with bitterness. She flinched at the power of the Autobot's anger. Then, as suddenly as his ire appeared, it was gone again, an apologetic sense touching her thoughts.   
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shouldn't've yelled at you. You were only asking a question. I guess I tend to be a little . . . overprotective where Vari's concerned.   
"Dana is . . . was Variance's reorientation tutor and a close personal friend. They were out late and were driving around Chicago when the Decepticons attacked. . . ."   
Nayla didn't have to ask what had happened then. She had seen many images of Decepticon attacks, both on the news and in Variance's thoughts.   
"With the death of his friend, he feels lost and alone?"   
"Something like that, I guess," Neo sighed.   
"I can relate to that," Nayla sighed in reply.   
"Lost and alone?"   
"When I pleaded with Morpheus for his assistance, I thought only of escape. I knew only that I needed to escape before my father and his military allies learned of my other talents. Now that I have achieved that . . . I never looked beyond that. I do not know what to do with the rest of my life.   
"School first, I should think."   
"Yes, but to study what?"   
"Well, you have time," Neo replied quietly. She didn't know what to say to that.   
A sudden yawn reminded her that, while it was still early local time, she had already had a full day. _But I have already slept once. Surely I cannot need to sleep again. . . ._   
"If you're tired, I can clear out and let you sleep."   
"I have slept once already since this morning."   
"That may be, but it's still after nine at night back in England."   
"Be that as it may, I think I should attempt to adjust to the schedule here."   
"That may be a bit hard, since we operate on a thirty-hour rotation and you should probably stick with a twenty-four hour cycle," Neo replied with a gentle chuckle, a quiet smile lighting his pale cobalt optics.   
"Well," she smiled back, "perhaps I shall surprise you all."   
  


* * * * * 

  
It was midafternoon before Neo left Nayla as she was wanting to try to sleep off a headache. There had been times when her untrained talent had pushed at him, but each time he turned her mind aside the same way Morpheus had done to him.   
"Neo. Good, you're home. Morph moved Variance into your sleep room earlier. I think he wants you to sit with him, since you called in on him."   
"Thanks, Striker. How's he doing?"   
"Don't know," the steel blue spy operative grumbled, green optics flashing with annoyance. "Haven't seen him since he and that human went out for their joyride."   
"Lucky for you," Neo grumbled. "Buy a clue, Striker. Last thing he needs is you upsetting him more."   
"Lighten up, Neo. I won't even be here later; I'm covering his duty shifts until they put him back on rotation.   
"Now, if you're done giving me a hard time, I think we've both got better things to do."   
Striker flashed him a quick grin, then walked out of the suite. Neo checked the desk comm for messages, but there were none. Curious, he reached for his bondmate.   
_Morpheus?_ he sent, coupled with his mental signature. He felt his bondmate accept the contact, but there was no other communication at first. Then he felt his mate's presence like a sensual caress through his thoughts.   
_I am here, my mate. What troubles you?   
How's Vari? Striker said you moved him. . . .   
Yes, I thought it better if he were allowed to mourn in private. For his sake . . . and for yours.   
For mine?   
Did you really think I didn't know, my love? Do you think me so inattentive?   
I would never think such a thing of you, beloved_, Neo sent back hastily.   
_Of course not_, Morpheus replied, his mindvoice weaving like a tender caress through Neo's mind. _I have never, nor will I ever doubt your love for me. Variance is quite striking, both physically and intellectually. You would be good for each other.   
You know?_ Neo could hardly believe what he was hearing.   
_You could never keep secrets from me, beloved_, Morpheus sent back. _Go, sit with him awhile. He may not yet be ready, but be his friend. Be what he needs.   
I love you_, Neo sent, earnestly filling his mental tone with every ounce of sincere adoration and desire he could muster.   
_I know, my love_, Morpheus replied with a quiet chuckle, _as I love you. But later, Neo. Variance needs you now. Later there will be time for us._   
Neo felt a rush of desire pushed through him, coupled with Morpheus's distinctive laugh. Then the connection between them vanished, leaving Neo in a desperate state of longing.   
"Bastard," Neo muttered, but there was no rancor in it.   
Neo slipped into the sleep room he shared with Morpheus and Variance. Their room had a double berth and a single berth, a concession to his and Morpheus's status as bondmates. Normally, Variance claimed the single, regardless of whether or not anyone else would need to recharge with him. But this time . . . this time he was laying face down on the double, his forearms crossed under his head.   
"Hey Vari. . . ."   
"Back again, eh Neo?" Variance mumbled.   
"Yeah," he agreed, walking over to perch on the edge of the berth. "Thought you might want the company."   
"Not really. . . ."   
"Not even mine?"   
"Well . . . better'n Strike's. . . ."   
"He wasn--"   
"Don't start, Neo. I don't need you to fight for me. What was that human saying Dana used to use all the time? Oh yeah . . . I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself."   
Neo sighed, unphased by his friend's surliness. He knew it for the smokescreen it was, and so had no difficulty ignoring it. Neither was he surprised at the flinch when he rested his hand at the base of Variance's aerofoil. He could almost feel the tension radiating off of his friend.   
"Vari. . . ."   
"I really don't want to hear it, Neo," the tactician grumbled, still not looking up from his misery.   
"Not even that I'm sorry this had to happen?"   
"Especially not that," the tactician muttered. Neo sighed again, rubbing his friend's shoulder with his thumb.   
"Neo, go do something. Let me be miserable in peace."   
"You know I can't do that, Variance," he murmured gently, stroking the back of the tactician's neck. A choked whimper worked its way out of him, coupled with a faint creak as his joints relaxed. Neo smiled slightly as he felt the knots tension in his friend's body breaking up and releasing, albeit very slowly.   
"Try to sleep, Vari."   
"I . . . I can't. I've already tried once. Nightmares were too much. . . ."   
"Try, hon. I promise, no nightmares."   
Neo threaded his thoughts along the upper surface of Variance's thoughts, only a very light touch to monitor his friend's dreams.   
_Sleep well, my darling_, he whispered to Variance's insensate form. _I will be here for you, always._   
  
* * * * *   
Nayla awoke with a throbbing headache. She rolled over with a groan and immediately closed her eyes again.   
"Computer, dim lights, seventy percent," she moaned weakly.   
"Acknowledged. Do you need assistance?"   
"Mm. Yes . . . a human-capable medic."   
"Acknowledged."   
Nayla pulled the blankets over her head and waited. Maybe the headache would go away on its own, but she doubted it. Anxious to distract herself, she tried counting backwards from fifty, but her headache wasn't letting her get past forty. She rolled over again, curling into a ball of misery. Praying silently, she hoped the medic arrived soon.   
  


* * * * * 

  
First Aid keyed in his medical emergency override code, allowing himself and Remix into the Whitwhickies' apartment. Remix hurried past him, flying up to the loft before First Aid could even enter the apartment. She didn't like flying around most Autobots, but for a medical emergency, she was willing to make an exception. The darkness of the bedroom, however, surprised her.   
"Nayla?" she asked quietly of the lump of blankets. "Nayla, I'm here with First Aid. You said you wanted a medic?"   
"Yes," came the muffled reply. Between the low ambient light and the light of her own optics, Remix was able to watch as the young girl unburied herself. She switched over to greater infrared reception, uncertain what to think of the unusual readings her optics registered.   
"What's wrong?" she asked with a slight frown. Nayla started to sit up, then fell back against the bed with a groan.   
"Headache," the girl moaned. "Also, light sensitivity, body aches, and chills."   
"I'll see what First Aid says," she murmured, then hurried back out to the landing.   
"What are her symptoms?"   
"She's complaining of a headache with light sensitivity, body aches, and chills."   
"Take this scanner in and take her readings."   
The small Femme cassette nodded, then walked back into the bedroom. A moment later, she returned the scanner to the medic.   
"Strange. According to this, she's perfectly healthy. The scanner didn't find any physical cause for her symptoms."   
"I assure you, her symptoms are real. Her body temperature is definitely depressed."   
"Bring her out and we'll take her to medlab. Maybe there's something we're missing."   
Remix nodded and ducked back into the bedroom.   
"Nayla? First Aid wants us to go to medlab. I can carry you a little ways, if you need me to do that."   
"How far?"   
"You only really have to go downstairs. First Aid can drive if that would be better."   
"That . . . would be good . . . if I could stand. . . ."   
"Here, wrap yourself up a bit and I can carry you."   
Nayla complied without comment, whimpering slightly when Remix picked her up. The cassette Femme was alarmed at how light and limp the girl was in her arms as she flew back to First Aid. She didn't have to say a word for the medic to transform.   
  


* * * * * 

  
"I just don't understand it," First Aid confessed with a sigh. "She should be fine."   
"But obviously she's not. Is the aspirin helping at all?" Ratchet asked.   
"It does for a few moments, then wears off. I'm afraid to try anything stronger, when we don't even know _why_ she's in pain. And nothing we do is keeping her warm enough, either."   
"Remix, what does Render say?"   
The midnight blue cassette Femme gently tweaked the charcoal cassette jaguar's tail to get her attention. Render rowled a faint protest, blue optics glittering with silent amusement. Then she turned back to Nayla, her grey muzzle lightly touching the bundle of blankets at the head of the biobed that covered the young teen. Render had been perched on the end of the bed from the moment the human telepath had arrived, monitoring her state of mind and pain levels.   
"She says she thinks she knows what the problem is."   
"Oh? And did she also share her theory?" Ratchet asked with amused patience, forestalling any frustrated anger from his fellow medic.   
"Yes. She says Nayla's mind feels like it's telepathically linked to another."   
"What does that have to do with anything?" First Aid demanded with unexpected harshness. Remix flinched, then steadied herself.   
"Unlike us, humans have no science to their telepathic abilities. Their minds often shape their realities. Render says, from what she can tell, Nayla's symptoms match what the girl expects to suffer as a result of link deprivation. Whoever she is linked to, she has formed a physical dependancy on that person."   
"But who would it be?" Ratchet asked, perplexed. "Surely not someone from that military installation. And she's had no contact with any humans since she came here."   
"Render is trying to track the link now. She says she might be wrong . . . and that she finds it curious to note that the link feels much as it would between two of our own people."   
"That doesn't make any sense," First Aid sighed. "Humans are completely different. Remember when those humans came here, wanting Morpheus to help them prove their abilities? He could read them, but they couldn't read him, sometimes not even when he was 'sending' to them."   
"Many of them were little more then charlatans," Remix replied. "The humans have no science, no guild, no testing, no procedure at all. Anyone can claim psychic ability, yet very rarely is anyone believed. Probably because of their lack of scientific procedure.   
"Nayla's talents, however, are very real."   
"Talents, as in more than one? What else can she do?"   
"She has talent in three of what the humans term the major classes of psychic ability: telepathy, telekinesis, and teleportation."   
"Teleportation isn't a psychic talent, it's a trick of hyperspatial mathematics," First Aid said dismissively.   
"For _us_ it is, because we can be wired with the mechanics to perform such a trick. For _her_ however. . . ."   
Remix was interrupted by a sudden yowl of surprise from Render. The grey and yellow jaguar blinked wide optics in obvious surprise, rearing back on her haunches momentarily.   
"Render? What is it?" Ratchet asked, concerned.   
_Remix, mindwalk this link and tell me I'm reading this wrong. Tell me this isn't who I think it is._   
Remix 'walked her link to Render, touching Nayla's sleeping mind before reaching forward along the link Render had found. When she reached the sleeping mind at the end, she was shocked to sense Neo's presence there as well.   
_Neo?!?   
Remix? What is it?   
What are you doing??   
I could ask you the same thing_, her guardian's mate sent back with a mental smirk. _You and Render both can get your paws out of Vari's head. I don't need any help warding off his nightmares.   
That's not what brought us to him. You're the stronger telepath; check his mind for a telepathic link.   
What for?   
You know better than to ask that._   
Remix pulled back slightly, waiting for Neo's more expert opinion. It seemed strange to her to think of the younger warrior in such terms, but compared to her, he knew much more about matters of telepathy than she herself did, with all of Morpheus's considerable expertise at his fingertips.   
_How did you find this_, Neo demanded suddenly. _And who in the name of Primus would do this to him?!   
I had hoped I was wrong_, Render's quiet mindvoice whispered gently through both of their minds. _Surely the child knows nothing of this.   
Child? What child?   
Nayla._   
Silence echoed between them, filled with a riot of conflicting emotions. Concern for Variance's mental state. Worry for Nayla's health. Anger that someone would impose on Variance in such a fashion. Surprise that Nayla could form such a link at all. Curiosity at the notion of breaking the link.   
_Take care of all of our problems at once_, Neo sent. _You two monitor the girl. I'll break the link from here.   
Are you sure this is such a good idea?   
It's what needs to be done for them both, Remix._   
"Remix? What is going on?" Ratchet demanded, interrupting the flow of conversation between the three telepaths.   
"We may have this sorted out, but it will take another moment."   
Remix flew up to perch next to Render. The grey mech-jaguar was watching Nayla intently, listening for the backlash of the severed link while keeping her asleep. The seconds stretched longer with no loss to the link or contact from Neo.   
_Reach for him_, Render purred through their special link. _The natives are getting restless._   
Hesitant, and wary of distracting him, Remix reached out to touch the edge of Neo's mind. After a fraction of a moment, the telepath accepted her contact, obviously disturbed by something.   
_Neo? What's going on?   
The link won't break. I've tried, but it rolls away from me.   
Then maybe we should just leave it, Neo.   
It's not right, Remix. I'll contact Morpheus._   
Remix withdrew with a sigh, absently brushing a handful of limp braids away from Nayla's face. Render was helping the girl sleep, but it was hardly necessary.   
"It's all happening too fast," she murmured.   
"What is?"   
Startled to discover she had spoken aloud, she scrambled for a cover. And was surprised again when Render provided one.   
"The progression of her symptoms. This sort of symptomology shouldn't appear for several days. I don't know why she is having this sort of rapid reaction."   
"Then you're set on this being a telepathic condition," First Aid murmured.   
"It's the only thing that makes sense."   
**_ARE YOU MAD?!?!?_**   
Render and Remix both flinched at the psychic echo of Morpheus's furious outburst. They exchanged worried looks; Morpheus was not the sort to let his anger at one person spill over into other minds. Render reached forward to touch her muzzle to Nayla's leg. The teen whimpered briefly, but Render succeeded in keeping her asleep.   
_REMIX!_   
The Femme flinched again, almost afraid to meet Morpheus's powerful sending.   
_I am here_, she sent back submissively.   
_What in the name of Primus's silver Cybertron were you _thinking_?!?   
Please, Morpheus, I have done no wrong.   
How could you allow him to even attempt this madness?   
I did not wish it_, she replied. _I thought it ill-considered but of us he is senior and he would not listen. I knew of nothing more I could do.   
He is fortunate he did not succeed; his foolishness could have killed her._   
There was a pause, a deadly silence, and Remix feared for what he might say next.   
_Stay with the girl. I will bring Variance._   
  


* * * * * 

  
Variance awoke to the sound of Neo whimpering, and a dull headache.   
"Neo?"   
The charcoal operative whimpered without moving. Variance pulled himself upright, not sure what to think. Neo lay curled on his side, clearly miserable with something.   
"Neo?" he murmured again, brushing his friend's shoulder hesitantly. "Neo, what's wrong?"   
"Good, you're awake. Come."   
"Morpheus? What's going on? What's wrong with Neo?"   
"He tried to do something foolish. You needn't worry about that. Your presence is, however, required in medlab."   
"But Neo. . . ."   
". . . will be fine. You are needed in medlab."   
"But. . . ."   
"Now, Variance."   
Variance let his optics linger on Neo's shaking form, worried for his friend. It wasn't like Neo to be whimpering for no reason. Likewise, it wasn't like Morpheus to seem so unconcerned for his bondmate. Nor was the harsh expression on the commander's face a normal occurrence. Worried for reasons he was unable to define, Variance briefly touched Neo's shoulder again before standing. He only hoped his friend understood his concern.   
"Why am I needed in medlab?" he asked quietly as he joined Morpheus. "I'm nothing special."   
"On the contrary," his commander replied, escorting him through the halls of the downed cruiser, "you're someone very special indeed."   
"I don't understand."   
"Somehow, I suspect Nayla said the very same thing."   
  


* * * * * 

  
"This is ridiculous. Even _you_ admit this isn't natural."   
"I will not allow any further attempts to break this link."   
"What about the girl?"   
"The girl? What about _me_? How can you expect me to do this? It's too soon, damn you!"   
"We didn't make this decision; she did."   
"I can't _do_ this, Morph. I just can't. You have to do something."   
"Breaking the link could kill her. . . ."   
_And the rest is silence._   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla rolled over, surprised to find her headache was gone. She was also once more in alien surroundings, a place of orange metal and wide spaces like the rest of the Ark, but also with the indescribable odor that seemed to cling to medical wards. There was also a knot of Autobots standing some distance from her, talking quietly between themselves while a large mechanical cat dozed at the end of her bed. If not for the sight of Morpheus amongst them, she might have panicked.   
_Well met, Little One_, a rolling female voice purred through her thoughts. The grey cat lifted it's head, blast shields sliding back to reveal startlingly brilliant blue eyes. The mechanical feline was mostly smokey charcoal grey, with yellow lines on the tips of her ears and marking circles like cassette spools on her hips and shoulders. Darker grey whorls swirled around her eyes and down her neck, highlighting the spools at shoulders and hips. She was, in Nayla's opinion, quite beautiful.   
_Thank you, my dear_, the purring voice whispered. _I am Render. I believe you have already met my voice, Remix._   
"Your voice?"   
_I cannot speak aloud, thus Remix does that for me. It is not a problem with other telepaths, but etiquette demands that I 'path nontelepaths in emergencies only.   
But we can discuss ethics another time. There is someone you need to meet more formally._   
She looked up past Render, somewhat surprised to see Morpheus and the two other Autobots watching her. One looked somewhat familiar, the white battlemask appearing rather odd on a medic. The other . . . she was quite certain she had never seen him before; from the not-quite-periwinkle blue shade of his outer transform plating to the unusual configuration of the spoiler stretched across the back of his shoulders, he was quite distinctive. Almost conspicuous. And yet something about him was as familiar to her as her own name.   
"How's your head, Nayla?"   
"Much better, thank you."   
"I believe you've already met First Aid," Morpheus said with a gentle smile. The white medic nodded once in acknowledgment.   
"And this would be Variance."   
Nayla blinked up at the dusky blue warrior, at a loss to think of a response. She had already seen so much of his mind. . . . No wonder he seemed so familiar to her.   
"Nayla, do you have any idea what you have done?"   
"Done?"   
_You make a dangerous assumption, Father. She knows nothing of what has happened. It is improper to assume she made this happen._   
"Variance did not forge this link, Render. None of you would. There is no other explanation possible, but that she did this."   
"Link? What link?"   
She stared up at the Autobots towering over her, desperately wishing they would stop talking around her and just explain what was happening. All she could understand was that they were blaming her for something.   
Variance crouched down to her level. She was surprised at the worn expression on his face, and even more surprised to realize that, on anyone else, his expression would be unreadable. Even more perplexing, she felt an increasing need to touch him, to stroke his cheek and let him know everything would be okay. And yet, at the same time, she _knew_ he didn't like to be touched. Nayla couldn't explain how, she just knew he valued his personal space, and while he could room with any number of other Autobots, the idea of being touched - or worse, held - set him on edge.   
_But how can I know these things?_   
"Nayla," the Autobot said hesitantly, "_did_ you make this link between us?"   
"What link? Please . . . I do not know what you are meaning. . . . What has happened?"   
Variance looked back up at Morpheus, as if seeking advice. Unease crept into the corners of her mind, coupled with a sense that her life would never again be completely her own.   
"Knowing or not, you forged this link. Now you will have to deal with it . . . and with him."   
Nayla tried to hide a frown at Morpheus's words, but the look on Variance's face suggested she wasn't completely successful.   
"I'm not always the best company," Variance commented with a slight grin.   
"I suppose I will have to learn to adjust," she replied quietly, briefly touching his cheek in spite of knowing how he felt about physical contact. Yet even that brief contact was enough to satisfy the strange compulsion to touch him. She felt . . . complete. More, she felt safe, reassured when she realized he hadn't shied away from her.   
"I think we will both have a lot of adjusting to do," he replied with a faint smile.   
"You both have a great deal of adjustments facing you. From what Render can tell, you will have to stay together. Extended periods of separation will make Nayla ill, though I should hope less rapidly than this time."   
"Yes. I wouldn't want to come back from a patrol or battle to find you here again," Variance added with another gentle smile.   
"B-battle? I . . . I am not going to be forced to learn of war . . . will I?"   
"It would be wise for you to at least learn basic self-defense."   
A tremor shook through Nayla at the thought of fighting. Even the _idea_ of holding a weapon made her feel ill.   
_Be easy, Little One_, Render's mindvoice purred gently though her thoughts. _We understand your hesitation. We will not force to do something you cannot or truly wish not to do._   
"Thank you, Render," she murmured, leaning over to hug the grey jaguar. The elder Femme seemed startled for a moment, then a low rumble rolled up from her chest. Nayla smiled as she realized Render was actually purring.   
"I thought you said you couldn't speak?"   
_I can't_, Render chuckled, _but purring . . . well, that's something else completely.   
You and I will be spending much time together I think, as we train your talents. But for now, go with Variance. You instincts will serve you well. You will have to be patient with him, but when he opens himself up to you. . . . Walk softly, Little One. Dana's death is still fresh for him._   
"Thank you, Render," she murmured once more, hugging her again. The mechajaguar nuzzled her cheek gently, still purring.   
_Go with Primus, Little One._   
  


* * * * * 

  
Variance wasn't sure what to think of the teenager walking beside him. He wasn't truly ready to be dealing with humans again. In fact, he would have been quite happy to have someone break the link Morpheus claimed existed between them. But Morpheus also claimed that even attempting such a thing could seriously hurt or even kill Nayla. Variance already had one death on his hands; he would not allow himself to be responsible for another one.   
At the same time, he had no idea what was expected of him. He knew nothing about the girl who had apparently forged a telepathic link with him, knew nothing of her wants and needs. Or of what she expected from him. He knew she had come to the Autobots seeking asylum. Now that she was physically dependant on being near him, there would be no question of granting her request. Still, she was underage, and the human governments were already making trouble. The media was too busy raining abuse on the Autobots' heads for failing to protect the world from the Decepticons that morning. But the British government and their army were already demanding her return. The Americans were insisting that they would not get involved, but that they would not issue a visa to Nayla. If they caught her on their soil, she would be deported to Senegal without delay. Not that such a thing was likely to be a problem.   
"What is it that you do, Variance" Nayla asked hesitantly.   
"At the moment, I'm just a little better than a common warrior. I'm still in training for tactics and special ops. In fact, I'm missing class today, though I'm sure Prowl understands. If he even held class today, and I'm not sure he did, as dead as it is around here."   
"Then I am to be surrounded by violence," the girl sighed.   
"We are a race at war, Nayla."   
"Another adjustment I will have to make, I suppose."   
"Have you thought about what you will do with your life here?"   
"If I thought it possible, I would like to have some small chance at a normal life. I have never known what it is to be normal. I do not think I will ever know."   
"Take it from me, being 'normal' isn't anything special."   
"Perhaps not, but I would still like to know," she replied, a small smile turning the corner of her mouth. Variance was impressed with how quickly and easily she was adapting to the alien environment of the Ark. She seemed already adapted to the idea of living around giant alien robots. On the other hand, she had only been with the Autobots for a day and was undoubtedly putting forward her bravest face.   
"Here we are, Echo group's quarters. There are seven of us: myself, Morpheus, and Neo, whom you've already met, and Striker, Nails, Fallout, and Duotone. Duo might even be in," he explained as he keyed them into the apartment. Variance wasn't certain if he wanted someone to be home or not.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla stumbled back as a wall of sound assaulted her ears. Variance stepped past her into the room, striding purposefully towards the desk. He touched some control on the desktop and the sound level dropped dramatically.   
"Hey!"   
"Hey yourself, Duo."   
"Oh, hey Var. What's up?"   
Nayla stared up at the taller Autobot, unable to find her voice. She knew somehow that the crimson and ivory panels on his shoulders, forearms, and shins were capable of rotating to dark blue as part of his vehicle mode's disguise system. He was at least a head taller than Variance, his color scheme dominated by crimson and ivory, though she could also see touches of his dark blue alternate color between segments of black and dark grey. His optics were a deep teal-blue that glittered with amusement in the pale smoke grey of his face and faceplate, in stark contrast to the sharpness of Variance's white face and chromium blue optics. Between the two warriors, she could tell that Duotone was the heavier warrior, with a bulkier frame, while Variance was lighter on his feet. Strange as it felt to think of giant alien robots in such terms, she confessed to herself that Variance was the more attractive of the two.   
"Duo, this is Nayla. She'll be staying with us. Nayla, Duotone, espionage and counterespionage agent."   
"A pleasure to meet you," she murmured.   
"Likewise. How long are you staying with us and who did you tick off to get stuck with Variance as your escort?"   
"Duo, you've got to be the least tactful mech I've ever known."   
Nayla whirled around at the sound of a new voice, braids wrapping around her neck in the process. Another Autobot stood in an inner doorway, every line of his boxy black body speaking volumes in amusement. She recognized him from the convoy southwest of York, his dark charcoal and black form definitely that of a heavy warrior.   
"Didn't think you'd be home, Nails. Nayla, this is Nails, our weapons specialist. Nayla here will be staying with us indefinitely."   
"You're the girl the Brits are all up in arms over, right?"   
"I am, yes."   
"Some particular reason why you're staying here with us and not at the Whitwhickies place?" Duo asked.   
"Not that we necessarily mind, of course," Nails qualified.   
Nayla scooted closer to Variance, suddenly unsteady on her own. She was used to being the focus of attention, but not like this. While the Autobots before her appeared friendly enough, she had the distinct feeling that they weren't really interested in having her around. To her surprise - and that of the other two Autobots as well - Variance reached down to steady her.   
"Ease off, guys. Nayla's had a rough day. Come on, Nayla. Dana's bed is even made."   
She felt a sharp pang of regret from Variance as he gestured toward another door. Nayla hurried to comply with his directions, anxious to get him alone, where he could mourn in peace.   
As the door hissed shut, she studied her new environment. The room was fairly plain, shades of orange metal occasionally disrupted by the presence of personal items. There were four sets of shelves, one on each side of the two giant beds. Tucked into the near corner was a single bed, a plain coverlet in shades of grey. Hardly attractive, but it was better than army standard issue. And perhaps she could have it changed.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Variance stared at the upper shelf that still held a handful of Dana's things. He would have to do something about that; if nothing else, that space belonged to Nayla now. And yet . . . he hated the very thought of it. He didn't want to have to . . . deal with them. They were Dana's things; he'd never touched them without being asked before. It felt wrong to do so now, as if it was a betrayal of his friend's personal space.   
His attention was recalled sharply to the girl who was now a part of his life by the sound of a strangled whimper. She had collapsed halfway between the door and the bed that was now hers. Worried, he crouched down beside her.   
"Nayla?" he asked, not sure what to do. "Nayla, what is it? What's wrong?"   
"Forever. . . ."   
"Nayla?"   
Haunted brown eyes stared up at Variance, tugging at something deep inside. For a moment, her hand hovered mere centimeters away from his face, then fell back again.   
"This will be my life . . . for the rest of my life. . . ."   
Silent tears slipped down her cheeks, her arms wrapping around her waist as several of her slim braids hung limply in her face, a picture of human suffering. Variance wished he knew how to comfort her, but he still knew very little about humans, and even less about teenaged girls. His instincts insisted he should leave her alone, let her suffer in solitary peace as he would want done for himself. If she really wanted to talk to him, she would be talking, not clammed up and silent. And yet . . . something held him back. Something told him that she needed him, but he couldn't figure out how or what he could do.   
"Variance. . . . I am so sorry. I only knew you were in pain. I never meant for this to happen. I only wanted to help you in some way. . . ."   
"I know," he replied quietly. For a moment, there was silence between them, a frozen moment in time. Variance felt trapped, unable to move as Nayla slowly rose to her feet and staggered closer to him. Instinct screamed at him in silence, anxious to get away. He could see her reaching out towards him, but as much as he wanted to move away, he couldn't seem to do it. Nayla staggered against his flank and just stayed there, whimpering weakly. At first, he wanted nothing so much as for her to move. But something about the weakness with which she was leaning against him and the broken sound of her whimpering tore at his spark.   
"I . . . I am so sorry, Variance. . . ."   
He reached down with hesitant hands, shifting his own weight so he was seated on the floor, her slight frame cradled in his lap. She immediately leaned against his chest, speaking with a weary sigh: "Perhaps we shall sit awhile and share our pains . . . and learn more about each other as we do."   
The pillow and blanket from her bed floated across the distance between them. Nayla wrapped herself in the blanket, then used the pillow to snuggle herself against him. Variance felt himself smiling inspite of it all; he had forgotten how it could feel to have such absolute trust.   
"So," she murmured, "tell me about Dana. . . ." 


	4. Interlude: Never Surrender, Never Forget

  
**Author's Note:** The second book of TF: Lux Eterna. And yes, this is a completed fic, so don't ask when I'll be updating it, okay? ~_^   
**Warnings:** Death, destruction, mayhem, telepathic teens, robo-yaoi, mostly OCs   
**Disclaimer:** Transformers and it's canon characters belong to Hasbro/Takara. I claim all the OCs and take full responsibility for conjuring up the plotline of this fic. Lyrics quoted as listed.   
  


* * *

**If You Be Only Human**   
_Interlude: Never Surrender, Never Forget_

_Heart beyond repair   
All the edges worn and frayed   
Magnifying love betrayed   
Through blood, through soul_   
- Harry Connick, Jr., "Heart Beyond Repair"  
  


September, 2001

"An unprecedented attack on home soil. . . ."   
"A nation in shock. . . ."   
". . . the world watched in horror. . . ."   
Nayla stared at the main screen of Teletran-1 in mute horror, unable to look away as she watched the first tower of the World Trade Center collapse for the third time. It felt unreal, as if she were watching some terrible movie, and not the BBC. The giant screen was subdivided into four main areas ringed in over a dozen video feeds from around the world, replaying the horror that had only just occurred moments before.   
She, like the myriad Autobots in the control room with her, had been drawn to Command and Control by the shrill cry of red alert klaxons in the pre-dawn hours of what should have been a normal September day. And like the Autobots around her, she felt herself frozen in disbelieving shock, unable to truly comprehend what Teletran was relaying.   
"Prowl, organize a response unit. Hot Spot!"   
_"Sir?"_   
"Get your team to New York, ASAP."   
_"Sir yes sir!"_ the Protectobot leader responded, snapping off the video connection. As if galvanized by that action, Prowl stepped forward, relaying orders as easily as if he were reading off the morning duty roster.   
"Response teams Alpha and Omega, set up a command post outside D.C. Beta Team, dispatch to Pennsylvania. Delta Team, coordinate aerial patrols. Zulu, inventory our specialists. Echo, Foxtrot, the Ark and Autobot City sites are in your hands."   
In a rush of noise and color, the Autobots dispersed. Within moments, the command center was all but empty once more. Aside from herself and Variance, only Morpheus, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe remained.   
"Var, take Nayla home. Sun, Side, organize the home guard."   
"Sir!" the twins chorused with crisp salutes.   
"Morpheus, I want to help."   
"I appreciate that, Nayla, but for now, your place is at home. Once things are organized, then I may have something for you. Until then, please stay home."   
Nayla sighed, but she knew better than to argue. Despite telepath ethics, she knew he would happily put her into a deep sleep if she fought him. The privilege of teacher over pupil.   
"Stay here, Nayla. I'll be back soon," Variance said as he keyed open the door to their apartment.   
"You . . . you are leaving me?"   
"I have to get my assignment. You'll be fine on your own for awhile. And I promise I'll keep checking in with you."   
"I have no choice, do I?"   
"Part of living with warriors."   
"You need not remind me," she groused. Variance smiled, briefly touching her shoulder before leaving. She paced their quarters, anxious for something to do. She hated to feel useless almost as much as she hated feeling unwanted. The news was insisting on playing the video over and over again, and it was all the major American networks would air. Not that she didn't understand, of course, but all alone in the single-occupancy quarters she shared with Variance . . . she was bored.   
_"Nayla?"_   
"Yes, Variance?"   
_"They need me to run courier to Autobot City and back. Are you going to be okay?"_   
"I think so, yes. Certainly I can contact you if it becomes too long. Is there anything I can do to assist?"   
_"Morpheus didn't say anything to me. I'm sure he'll let you know as soon as he has something."_   
"Of course, I just . . . wish to help."   
_"I know you do, Nayla, and I'm sure Morpheus knows too."_   
Nayla sighed, collapsing into her chair.   
_"I know, I know,"_ Variance chuckled softly. _"I really do need to sign off, hon. Be good."_   
The line was dead before Nayla could respond.   
_He can't possibly mean anything by it,_ she told herself. _Probably just trying to mimic human behaviors.   
Still . . . may the Light shine brightly for you, Variance my darling. Keep safe. . . ._   
  


* * * * * 

  
"Morpheus. . . ."   
"I'm on my fortieth hour, Tracks; find your own solution and take care of it."   
"But. . . ."   
"If you can't handle that, call Waverunner over at Autobot City. I'm off-duty for the next five hours."   
Before Tracks could continue to protest, Morpheus strode out of the command center, Neo following like a shadow.   
"You've been watching me," he murmured as they walked down empty corridors.   
"Of course."   
"You were supposed to go off-duty fifteen hours ago."   
"I switched with Sideswipe. I've got five hours off now too."   
Neo smiled at the startled look on Morpheus's face. He dragged his mate the last few paces into their empty suite, then rushed him into their sleep room.   
"Did you think, after all these years, I wouldn't know how you think?" he whispered, reaching up to cup his mate's cheek. Amusement flickered across their bond.   
"Now I remember why I chose you," Morpheus purred, his voice a deep note of pleasure.   
"I'm glad Prowl ordered us to stay here," Neo sighed, drawing Morpheus closer. "I don't think I could handle being out there."   
"You always were more empathic," his mate replied, gently folding his arms around Neo's waist. Contentment blossomed within the specialist as he rested his head against Morpheus's shoulder.   
"Guess it's a good thing we're home guard now, even if Strike 'n' Duo don't like it."   
"They'll learn to adjust, as they have before. . . ."   
_. . . but you didn't swap shifts with Sideswipe to talk about home guard or the team,_ Morpheus sent gently. _So tell me, darling, what has you in such a state?_   
"We could have been in the middle of that," he whispered, a tremor shaking through him. The idea that they could have been caught at Ground Zero, would have been assigned to swing through New York if not for Nayla's link to Variance . . . it shook him to the very core. Intellectually, he knew they would have been okay. And yet he couldn't shake the fear that they had very narrowly escaped tragedy.   
"Shh . . . easy, Neo . . . it didn't happen. . . ."   
"But it _could_ have, Morpheus. . . ."   
"But it didn't."   
"But. . . ."   
Morpheus clasped Neo's face gently, pulling him off his shoulder so their gazes met.   
_I'm here, you're here, we're fine. Variance is fine, even.   
But. . . .   
Shh . . . enough, my love. It is a moot point. You can't spend your life worrying over things that didn't happen._   
Neo sighed deeply, cobalt optics switching offline. Morpheus shifted his hold to draw Neo closer, lightly kissing his cheek. When the tension failed to go out of Neo's body, the elder telepath trailed tender kisses along his jaw.   
"Mm. . . ." _. . . and now who's in a state?   
Only trying to get you to relax_, he sent back, gently stroking the ridge around Neo's shoulders. The younger telepath obligingly leaned into the caress, a low purr of pleasure seeping out of him.   
"Just you and me and five hours off-duty," Morpheus murmured. "Think you can handle that?"   
"Mm . . . you can't stop me," Neo whispered, pulling his mate into a fiery kiss. Gentle hands soothed and caressed the lines of his body, coaxing the tension out of him. He could feel Morpheus's pleasure as he relaxed, could hear the low purr of contentment as he gently nipped at his mate's cheek and neck. Neo nuzzled his mate's neck, his thoughts reaching to Morpheus, sliding across his mate's mind in a sensual caress.   
_Be one with me_, he sent, kissing Morpheus again. In response, the telepath nipped at his lips.   
_I love you._   
The words had no source, but it didn't matter as they belonged to them both. 


	5. Chapter 4: Resistance Is Futile

  
**Author's Note:** The second book of TF: Lux Eterna. And yes, this is a completed fic, so don't ask when I'll be updating it, okay? ~_^   
**Warnings:** Death, destruction, mayhem, telepathic teens, robo-yaoi, mostly OCs   
**Disclaimer:** Transformers and it's canon characters belong to Hasbro/Takara. I claim all the OCs and take full responsibility for conjuring up the plotline of this fic. Lyrics quoted as listed.   
  


* * *

**If You Be Only Human**   
_Chapter 4: Resistance Is Futile_

_Help me out here   
All my words are falling short   
And there's so much I want to say   
Want to tell you just how good it feels   
When you look at me that way_   
- David Gray, "Please Forgive Me (Half a Mind)"  
  
"News again?" Nayla sighed. "What is it now? Have we not had enough yet?"   
"Hey, I have to keep up somehow. Besides, it's homework."   
"Univision is homework? I thought Shakespeare was homework?"   
"Shakespear is _your_ homework," Variance teased gently.   
"Homework you are delaying by tying up the desk unit. If you must watch the news, please use the entertainment unit."   
"I didn't want to disturb your nap," he replied as he stood. She relented and smiled up at him, lightly touching his shin before climbing up onto the desk. Four months and her life was completely different. For the first time in years, she was in school, after a fashion. Morpheus, as senior telepath on Earth, had set out a course of study for her telepathic and telekinetic abilities. He had also mapped out a general education course, so she could earn a high school diploma and pursue higher education. Render had taken up the responsibility of being her tutor, and she was a demanding teacher. Variance was able to help and her schedule was perhaps less demanding that that of a normal high school student in that her day was typically four lessons, sometimes five. On the other hand, her lessons were split between three "schools" - Telepath, general, and Prowl's reorientation lectures - and tended to be in session thirteen days out of fourteen. But she didn't mind; it kept her busy. Moreover, sitting in on Prowl's lectures had helped a great deal in getting herself oriented to the Autobot way of life.   
Nayla mentally set aside the lilting cadence of the Spanish news report, focusing on her homework. Render was starting an English literature course, beginning with Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_. She was having a hard time following it, so she was looking forward to hearing Render's insights.   
_Coming in!_ Render's cheerful mindvoice called out.   
"Variance, Render is here."   
"All right, I'll clear out," he chuckled, switching off the news as the grey cassette-jaguar padded into the room.   
_Would you please tell your foolish partner that he needn't leave on my account._   
"I have told him before, but I am made to think he does not care to listen."   
"More like I find it very frustrating to be hearing only half of a conversation."   
Render leaped up to the desk to join Nayla with a low purr.   
_Then perhaps you should practice using your mindvoice, Little One._   
"It feels strange," she sighed, absently stroking Render's neck. "I am not used to it, I suppose."   
_Nor will you ever be if you do not practice._   
"I suppose," she conceded.   
"See? Pure frustration being around you two. Where's Remix anyway? At least when she's here we can ignore you together."   
_She _does_ occasionally have other duties_, Render purred. _Today, however, she is helping Morpheus with your quarterly evaluation._   
"Has it been so long already?"   
_You started out of sync, but December ends in another ten days._   
"Christmas is coming," Nayla sighed, suddenly depressed.   
_And you have much to be grateful to have received._   
"Perhaps this year you will have a reason to wake up early and rush for the tree?"   
"It would be the first time I have ever done such a thing. We did not celebrate Christmas when I was a child. And if you will notice . . . we do not have a tree."   
"There's a tree in the Rec. So I guess it'll be a first for both of us," Variance murmured, touching her shoulder briefly before walking out of the apartment. Nayla sighed again, catching herself staring at the closed door for no good reason.   
_You become more like us every day_, Render sent gently, settling next to Nayla's chair.   
"I do not understand."   
_You love him._   
"I. . . ." _Yes_, she sighed. _Yes, I do. I know it is foolish, but. . . .   
Love is often foolish, sometimes vain, but never without cause. Variance is easy to love.   
But he's an alien!_ Nayla whimpered. _We're completely incompatible.   
Not completely. After all, you are already linked. You have lived with him for four months. Can you truly say you have nothing in common?_   
"That's not what I meant," she murmured aloud.   
_I know, dear one, I know. And I don't mean to trivialize the differences. Yes, Variance is easy to love, but he himself is slow to allow affection into his life. Still, you have been good for him; the brittleness I sensed in him when he transferred here is fading under your influence._   
"I only wish. . . ."   
_There is an old human saying: if wishes were horses, peasants would ride. Wishes alone will yield nothing._   
"I cannot make him love me."   
_No, you can't._   
Render reached out to waken Nayla's laptop.   
_Now then, how goes your readings?_   
"I finished Ethics earlier; I wish humans could have such things for those of us with talent."   
_Perhaps someday. And the rest?_   
"I am hoping to go stargazing tonight. The constellations are just so much mush in my head right now. And I am hopelessly lost with Shakespeare. The words don't make any sense."   
_Archaic English can be difficult. Perhaps a translation into French would make it easier? Teletran could certainly provide that._   
"I keep forgetting I can do that," Nayla replied ruefully. "I am so used to everything being in English here."   
_It would be wise to continue to read the English version, unless you wish to attend a French university, as you will probably be faced with Shakespearian English again. But Teletran has a vast library of study aids. It would be foolish to ignore them_, her tutor sent with an amused chuckle.   
_Now, let's see what we can do today._   
  


* * * * * 

  
Variance flicked the recall switch, then settled back to wait for the target film to come back. The computer could give him the results, but he liked being able to hold the target and judge the marks for himself.   
"Well, well, well . . . if it isn't Variance. . . ."   
Sunstreaker. Variance suppressed a flinch; nothing he did was ever good enough for the taciturn co-commander of the home guard. It didn't matter that the yellow warrior treated everyone but his brother with the same disdain, Variance's pride always came out wounded.   
"Your aim's off," the subcommander commented dryly, pointing to the returned film.   
"It's a new weapon. I haven't ever used it before," he replied defensively. He could see Sunstreaker's point and mentally adjusted his aim as he queued up a fresh target. Once the computer signaled it's readiness, Variance stepped up to the line and fired five times. He felt a tingle between his shoulders when he realized that Sunstreaker had stayed back and watched him. Acutely aware of the warrior's gaze on him, he flicked the recall switch again.   
"Overcompensated. Recoil's pulling to your left, see?" the other mech grunted, pointing out the off-set on the last three shots. Variance looked up at Sunstreaker in surprise.   
"Here, step back and let me show you."   
Too shocked to do anything else, he stepped back and passed his rifle to Sunstreaker. The yellow warrior fired once, paused for something, then fired four more shots.   
"Now you try."   
Variance switched places, watching as the range reset itself. Sunstreaker's first shot had gone wide of the inner circle, but the other four were a tight cluster at the center. Variance adjusted his alignment, then fired five more shots in quick succession. But even as he fired, he could tell they were off.   
"You're not listening, are you?" Sunstreaker chastised. Variance really wished someone else would come onto the range. Maybe then Sunstreaker wouldn't feel the need to harass him.   
"The recoil pulls back and left point eight degrees. You need to compensate with each shot, not just once."   
"Point eight degrees isn't even worth this . . . this aggravation!"   
Sunstreaker pulled the film down before Variance could reach it, scowling.   
"You adjust once, then never again. See? Each shot drifts left. You're too tense; relax and take your time. There's no one else down here."   
_As if I don't know that_, he thought sourly. Variance stepped up to the line once more, this time purposefully pushing the subcommander's presence from his awareness as he took aim on the target. This time he paused to make sure each shot felt right before firing.   
"See? Was that so hard?" Sunstreaker commented. Variance resisted the urge to yell at the arrogant warrior; he _had_ helped, in a way. But he had come down here to relax, not to be hounded.   
"Now, let's try it again, only with a little more of a challenge."   
Variance wasn't sure he liked the smile on Sunstreaker's face. He was pretty sure he didn't when he saw what the other mech had done to the range - the target had moved back a hundred meters. But he wasn't about to let the other warrior chase him off so easily.   
It was almost half an hour later before the subcommander was satisfied with Variance's shooting.   
"What else do you have on you?"   
"Just my usual rifle," he replied with a confused frown.   
"Let's see what you can do with that."   
Variance wanted to ask why, but at the same time, he was leery of offending a superior officer. Especially one who had actually been teaching him. So instead he switched weapons. His scatter blaster was a comfortable, familiar weight in his hands. He reset the range to reflect the change in weapon, then squeezed off five shots. He could feel Sunstreaker watching him as the pellets zipped towards the target, but he felt confident in his own ability. He had used his scatter blaster for almost two vorn; he knew all it's ins and outs intimately. And as the sprays impacted on the target, he could tell he had bested his previous target record.   
"Impressive. Now here's how you can do even better."   
Variance wanted to be angry, but Sunstreaker was actually being helpful in his advice. They spent no more than five minutes on his blaster before the senior warrior was asking what other weapons he was carrying. When he confessed to not having anything else, Sunstreaker offered one of his own, claiming that he needed to be able to pick up any weapon and fire accurately. He wasn't about to argue with the co-commander of the home guard. However, after forty-five minutes and three different weapons, he was beginning to wonder at the yellow warrior's motives.   
"Not that I'm not grateful," he started, trying to sound casual, "but why are you helping me?"   
Silence hung between them for a moment. Variance focused on changing the rifle clip, almost afraid to see the other warrior's expression.   
"You're part of the last line of defense. You'll be here, guarding our rear, while the rest of us charge out to do battle. _You_ get to hang back while _we_ risk life and limb. So _excuse me_ for wanting to know that, if I have to fall back, I'm falling back to someone who can actually handle it!"   
"I should've known," Variance grumbled.   
"You want rearguard, fine; Primus knows _somebody's_ gotta do it. But I'll be scrapped if I'm gonna let you sit back and get an easy ride. Not when the state of my plating could depend on you being able to hold onto our fallback position!"   
"Everything's always about you, isn't it Sunstreaker? Well I've got news for you, buddy: there's things more important than your bloody patina!"   
Angry beyond words, Variance threw the rifle at Sunstreaker and stalked out of the range. He could barely credit how angry he was at the selfishness of the home guard co-commander. Variance stalked the halls of the downed cruiser in a dark cloud, unwilling to go home even though he knew Nayla was already suffering from his mood. He needed to work off his anger. The simulation rooms sounded like the ideal solution. When he saw Sideswipe walking out of one, however, he all but accosted the red warrior.   
"You tell your stinking brother to keep his sorry skidplate away from me! I don't need his kind of help!"   
"Whoa, whoa, dude, Variance. . . . What gives? No, wait, not here. . . ."   
Sideswipe grabbed the aerofoil that stretched across Variance's back as the other turned to walk away and dragged him into the sim room he had just vacated.   
"Computer, engage privacy mode," the red warrior ordered as he released the tactician.   
"Sorry about that. I know how you feel about being touched, but you can't just say something like that and then expect me to just let you walk away. Sunstreaker may be an ass, but he's still my brother."   
"He's not just an ass, he's an arrogant, self-centered, delusional, domineering, self-important, vainglorious, son of a sewer cleaner!"   
"Hey now, he is _not_ a son of a sewer cleaner!"   
Variance stopped cold. Of all the myriad responses he could have expected, that had not been one of them.   
"This is going to be one of those long talks. . . . Computer, lounge, no program."   
The room obediently morphed from the dull gunmetal grey, yellow and silver matrix grid of an unused sim room to the mellow oranges and greys of an Ark lounge. Sideswipe sank down into a chair, gesturing for Variance to join him. After a moment's hesitation, he sighed and settled into a chair across from the subcommander.   
"All right, Var, what happened?"   
"What happened is your brother is an arrogant slaghead and I'd appreciate it if you told him to stay away from me."   
"Now, see, that doesn't really tell me anything," Sideswipe replied, grinning slightly. "I already know he's a slaghead and anything else you'd care to call him, so how about helping me out and explaining just what he did that has you so worked up you're willing to risk court martial for assaulting a superior office, okay?"   
"C-court martial?"   
"Easy, Var. I'm not going to do anything. But you _did_ assault me," Sideswipe explained with a relaxed grin. Variance settled back in his chair, ignoring the chiming of his personal commlink. He could have gotten himself into serious trouble with his anger.   
"Hey Var, talk to me," the red warrior murmured.   
"Everything's always about him, isn't it?" Variance sighed at last.   
"Not really, but he acts like it a lot. What happened?"   
"Render came for Nayla's lessons, so I figured I'd get out of their way. Rifle range was empty, which was a pleasant surprise. I'd just picked up a new sniper rifle, so I thought I'd work with it awhile. You know, get a feel for how it shoots. I'd just finished my first target when your brother shows up and decides to tell me everything I'm doing wrong. Arrogant prat. . . ."   
"That's it?"   
"Oh no. First he gets all snippy over a point eight degree recoil shift. Then he decides I'm not clustering my shots tight enough. . . ."   
"So walk away. You were off-duty. He was off-duty. No rank, so no harm, no foul."   
"Well . . . but he was right and he was actually kinda helping. Yeah, I was annoyed when he said the sprays were too loose since I've had my scatter blaster for two vorn, but he helped. Then he goes off and insists I use one of his. Then another. And another. Spent an hour and a half down there, trying to make him happy."   
"So . . . what, you're pissed because he was actually teaching you how to be a better warrior?"   
"I'm pissed beause he only did it so he could feel better about his precious patina!"   
"How do you know that?"   
"He said so!"   
"I'm missing something here. . . ."   
"How long have you known I'm on rearguard?" Variance asked suddenly.   
"Including the last ten seconds? About ten seconds. When did you volunteer for Emergency Reserve?"   
"I didn't. I didn't know I was on the rearguard until he told me."   
"Yeah, that sounds like the sort of thing he'd research. What's your point?"   
"My point is I didn't volunteer, someone assigned me. But even if I did volunteer, that doesn't give him the right to treat me the way he did."   
"What did he say? His exact words. I know I'm missing something here. . . ."   
"His words? 'You want rearguard, fine; Primus knows somebody's gotta do it. But I'll be scrapped if I'm gonna let you sit back and get an easy ride. Not when the state of my plating could depend on you being able to hold onto our fallback position.' Which is where I threw his rifle at him and walked out."   
"You asked him, didn't you?" Sideswipe asked, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.   
"What?"   
"You said he spent an hour and a half with you, teaching you how to improve your technique. You asked him why, right?"   
"If you're trying to say this is my fault. . . ."   
"No, no, it's not your fault. I know that, and you're right, he was being a jerk and a half. Thing of it is, I know _why_ he's that way."   
"So enlighten me," Variance groused.   
"You know, I _am_ still your CO," Sideswipe chuckled as he leaned forward once more.   
"Look, everyone knows Sunstreaker's a jerk. Everyone knows he's not here to make friends."   
"I don't understand."   
"Everyone _knows_ Sunny doesn't care about anyone but us."   
Variance frowned at the intense look on Sideswipe's face. The red warrior was trying to tell him something, if only he could figure out what.   
"This war makes it hard to care about anyone," Sideswipe said softly. "Caring leaves you open to heartache. But I don't have to tell you that. . . .   
"Everyone _knows_ Sunstreaker doesn't have friends."   
Their gazes met and held for a long moment, and then slow realization dawned on the younger warrior. He powered down his optics to half as he sank deeper into his chair. He felt like an idiot.   
"He wasn't helping because I'm rearguard," Variance murmured, "he was trying to be a friend."   
"If he was worried about our last line of defense, he'd have no reason to single you out, Var. You're already a strong fighter, better than some of the other emergency reserves."   
"He was trying to be nice, and I threw it in his face. I am such an idiot."   
"Hey now, you didn't know. And he was trying to put you off. You cornered him without meaning to and he reacted. After all, everyone knows Sunny isn't interested in anything but himself," Sideswipe replied with a gentle chuckle.   
"I still feel like an idiot."   
"Yeah, well . . . I'll talk to him, see what he says about all this. . . if you're willing to give him another shot. . . ."   
"I . . . Primus, why me?"   
"Why not? What, you been having problems lately? Someone giving you a hard time?"   
"I just . . . I seem to be attracting everyone's attention lately."   
"Neo still crowding you?"   
"At Nayla's prompting," Variance sighed.   
"Right now, I'd say she knows you better than you do yourself. She's probably worried about you being up in officer's territory all by yourself. Single occupancy can be rough, even when you're eased into it, let alone when you're shoved," Sideswipe offered with a sympathetic look.   
"I'll talk to my good-for-nothing brother, catch his end of it, and we'll see where it goes from there. Just know that there's no rule saying you _have_ to be alone."   
Variance nodded, watching in sullen silence as the red warrior exited the room. While it was a relief to know there was a method to Sunstreaker's madness, he wasn't sure how he felt about the yellow warrior trying to befriend him. Sunstreaker wasn't like Sideswipe; he went out of his way to make it very hard for anyone to like him.   
"Hey Vari . . . everything okay?"   
"Neo? What are you doing here?"   
"Well, there's some crazy rumors going around, so I thought I'd better get the story from the horse's mouth, so to speak."   
"Rumors?"   
"Crazy stuff about you throwing a gun at Sunstreaker. He's been pissing and moaning like you'd shot him or something, but for all his grousing, he's refusing to file a complaint. There's some pretty twisted rumors flying around to explain why that might be."   
"What sort of twisted?"   
"That you've bewitched him," Neo breathed, his face suddenly only inches from his neck. The charcoal warrior was quite careful not to actually touch him, but every tactile sensor was screaming with the proximity of the mech behind him. Conflicting wants pulled at him, threatening to tear him apart. The desire to flee, to regain his personal space at any cost. And the countering longing to let go, to release all his fears and submit to the terrifying need to feel Neo's touch.   
"Have you, Variance?" the telepath whispered, warm air venting past his cheek. "Have you bewitched him as you have me?"   
"What? No . . . no, I've done nothing. . . ."   
"Good," Neo purred luxuriantly, his hands hovering mere centimeters above his arms. "I wouldn't want to think I'd lost you to him"   
"Neo. . . ."   
"You can't keep fighting me, Variance, can't keep fighting the desire you feel in your spark," he whispered, his voice like a caress.   
"Neo . . . this isn't right. You _have_ a bondmate. . . ."   
"Yes, and he knows all about us."   
"Neo, there _is_ no _us_."   
"No, not yet," Neo purred, fingers feather-light on his right shoulder, "but soon, I think. Very soon. I can _feel_ the desire burning within you, Vari."   
"Neo," he gasped, switching off his optics. That was a mistake and he knew it the second he lost sight of Neo. Without visual, his imagination was running away with itself. Running in directions that frightened him.   
"Neo, stop this. . . . Please. . . ."   
He was acutely aware of every breath of air against his outer plating, intimately conscious of the touch of Neo's fingers on his shoulder. Teasing, caressing. He could escape that touch easily, if he wanted. A twitch of his shoulder, a single step forward, and the contact would be broken. It would be so simple. And yet it was such a struggle to even power up his optics.   
"I engaged the privacy lock when I came in, Vari. We're both off-duty for the rest of the day. There's no one to interrupt us. . . ."   
"Nayla. . . ."   
"She'll be fine, you know that," Neo murmured. The slender operative slipped around to stand in front of Variance, cobalt optics glowing with a seriousness that barely masked the raw desire beneath it.   
"I'm not asking you to bond with me," he murmured, fingertips flitting against Variance's cheek. "Just . . . pair with me, Var. Take that first step, please. . . ."   
"_Just_ pair with you? You make it sound so . . . casual."   
"Var, it _is_ casual . . . but it would be a start. Stop fighting yourself, love. I know you want me. Why must you refuse what is freely offered?"   
"Because it's wrong. . . ."   
"Wrong? Where's the wrong? I love you, Var. I know you feel the same. Morpheus approves of you," Neo murmured, gently pressing his palm against Variance's cheek. Warmth rose from the hand on his cheek, pushing down the fear.   
"Neo. . . ."   
"What more do you need, my love?" Neo breathed, his face only a handful of centimeters from his own. He flinched at the proximity, instinct howling at him to pull free, yet he was unable to do so, unable to ignore the rightness of Neo's touch. And unwilling to fight the warmth rushing through him from the hand on his cheek.   
"Neo . . . this isn't fair. . . ."   
Instead of responding, Neo closed the distance between them to press his lips against Variance's mouth. The tactician froze, uncertain how to react to the insistant nipping. Gentle hands slid down his arms to pull him closer. Variance shivered, his arms reaching up to wrap around Neo in order to steady himself. Heated nips and kisses trailed from his mouth down his neck, Neo's hands sliding around his waist. A soft whimper betrayed him.   
_You know you want this . . . know you need this_, the telepath's mental voice whispered though his thoughts. He whimpered again, his thoughts turning over the idea of being with Neo. He _was_ attracted to the telepath and his touch felt so _right_. . . .   
_You're thinking too much_, Neo teased as he nipped at his neck. _Stop thinking about what you're feeling and do something about it._   
When he hesitated yet longer, Neo planted images into Variance's thoughts. Variance gasped in shock at the graphic and specific nature of Neo's desires. The telepath paused in his own seduction, pulling back a half step to look up at Variance with questioning optics. Understanding flickered through the shorter Autobot's optics, his hand reaching up to stroke Variance's cheek.   
"You've never done this before," the telepath whispered, his voice lightly touched with sadness.   
"No," he replied quietly, his mind still reeling from the images Neo had implanted. Gentle hands stroked his shoulders and arms, offering a quiet distraction as Neo stretched upwards to capture his mouth in a tender kiss. His own body betrayed him, sighing as joints relaxed under the loving assault.   
"I'm sorry for my assumptions, my Variance," the telepath murmured. "Think nothing more of it, beloved. Only trust in me, and I promise you will have no regrets."   
"I . . . I don't --"   
"Shh," he interrupted, resting two fingers against Variance's lips. "You don't need to do anything, my love. I know enough for us both. Let me be your guide."   
Neo smiled, his hands still sliding gentle caresses across his outer plating. Tactile sensors hummed softly, a contrary sense of contentment rising within him at being able to just hold Neo in his arms. This was the right place, the right time . . . the only place he ever wanted to be.   
_As it should be, my beloved Variance. This . . . this peace is only the beginning. . . . _   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla gasped at the sudden influx of raw emotion from Variance. Such a drastic change from his earlier anger made her head spin. Then she felt Render's gentle presence in her thoughts, separating her from the chaos of her beloved Variance's thoughts.   
_Well, I suppose congratulations are in order, Little One. You have achieved what you sought._   
"This is _not_ what I sought, as well you should know."   
_You wished him to be happy. And you are the one who pushed him towards Neo._   
"This is not what I wanted," she grumbled, leaving her desk to seek out the small cache of medicines they kept on hand. She rarely chose to take any sort of medication for her ailments, but for her headaches she would make an exception.   
"I am sorry to ask this, Render, as I know I have much to learn yet, but I do not think I could give your lesson the proper attention it deserves while I still possess this headache. Perhaps we could continue another time?"   
_Of course, child,_ the mechajaguar purred gently. _Rest awhile, meditate and recenter yourself. Only promise me, Little One, that you will not begrudge Variance his happiness._   
Nayla said nothing as Render's muzzle touched her forehead. She wanted to make that promise for her tutor, but in her heart, she feared she couldn't keep such a vow. Yes, she wanted Variance to be happy, but with _her_, not with Neo. The charcoal telepath was only supposed to be a friend, not a lover. Now any chance she could have had with the tactician was forever lost.   
_He has earned his right to his happiness, Nayla_, her tutor scolded. _Do not force him to choose between you; I very much doubt you would care for the result._   
"I know, Render, I know, it is only . . . I love him. He is my life. . . . But I am not foolish enough to think that I have any meaning in _his_ life."   
_You do him a disservice to think that way. But if you truly believe you mean so little to him. . . ._   
Render left her, breaking their mental contact abruptly, the telepathic equivalent of slamming a door in someone's face. Added to her slowly worsening headache, it was enough to elicit a whimper of pain. But her tutor was already gone. Quickly dosing herself with two aspirin, she retreated to her bedroom. A nap was unlikely to do anything to help her headache, but at least if she was asleep she wouldn't have to feel it.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Variance felt . . . guilty, holding Neo to his chest. They had tied up the simulation room for four hours, just being together. But after denying the attraction he felt for the slender operative for so many months, he was reluctant to release his newly-claimed lover.   
"And to think you were so worried," Neo murmured softly. "My silly Variance. Just think how much better it will feel when --"   
"Don't Neo," Variance interrupted. "Don't push. _If_ I choose to bind myself to you, it will be at a time of my choosing . . . and not now."   
"Spoilsport," Neo replied in a light whisper, snuggling closer. Variance sighed, but refused to rise to the bait.   
"How much longer do we have?"   
"To be together? As long as you wish, my love. We both have the rest of the day free."   
"I'm surprised someone hasn't charged in on us, demanding to know why we're tying up the room."   
"No one will," Neo replied, lightly stroking Variance's chest. "Morpheus has the room marked off as reserved."   
"Morpheus?"   
"Mm . . . told you he approved of us. Has from the beginning."   
"And you don't find it at all strange that your _bondmate_ is helping you acquire a new lover?"   
"Should I? We've been together for a couple million years now. We've both taken lovers before, sometimes with the other's help, sometimes even with active interference. . . ."   
Variance shook his head in disbelief as Neo's voice trailed off into silence. He had always thought that once one had a bonded mate, the need for other lovers was negated. As it was, he could barely believe he was taking up a relationship with someone who was bonded to another.   
"I have taken other lovers before," Neo whispered, "but you're the first one I've loved and wanted from the first time I saw you. I knew even then that you and I would be together, one way or another."   
"Neo, don't flatter yourself."   
"You said not to push, but Vari . . . I can't bear the thought of not bonding with you, of losing you without ever letting you see how much I love you."   
"Neo, stop it," Variance mumbled, finally releasing the operative and standing, stepping away from him. He had already done more than he had intended. The idea of taking it any further truly scared him. And Variance prided himself on the fact that he didn't scare easy.   
"Variance. . . ."   
The charcoal telepath had also risen to his feet, crossing the short distance between them to brush his fingertips lightly against his shoulder. Variance twitched his shoulder free, his back firmly turned away from the other mech, but he knew even as he did it that he was hurting Neo for little reason.   
"I'm going home," he said quietly, trying not to visualize the hurt expression on Neo's face. "I need to check on Nayla, make sure she's all right. . . ."   
"Vari, I. . . ."   
But it was obvious that the telepath didn't know what to say. Variance was certain his behavior was not helping. It wasn't like him to act in such a petty and cruel manner. And yet . . . something about the idea of bonding to Neo set him on edge. It didn't help that Neo was so obviously needing to touch him; even accepting Neo as his lover hadn't calmed the twinges that shook through him at casual touch.   
"I guess you have to do what you have to do. You know where to find me."   
Variance wanted to say something to make things right between them, but the words wouldn't come. He hated to leave on such a sour note, but he was beginning to doubt that he had much choice in the matter. Pride could be a dreadful thing.   
"Vari, whatever I said . . . I love you."   
"I . . . I need to go. . . ."   
"I won't stop you. . . ."   
"I . . . I'll call you. . . ."   
"Stay if you mean to or just leave," Neo grunted. Variance winced and almost turned around. Almost. Instead, he hurried out of the room, swiftly stalking the corridors back to his apartment. Nayla and Render were absent, which suited him fine; he wanted to be alone. Retreating to his workstation, he swiftly lost himself in the piles of research work he found awaiting his return.   
When Variance surfaced several hours later, he was surprised to note that he was still alone in the apartment's antechamber.   
_Strange. Unless I just missed her and she went to bed without saying anything. But that's not like her either. Particularly not when she thinks I've had a bad day. . . .   
But you haven't exactly had a bad day, have you, Variance?_   
Sighing to himself, he asked Teletran for Nayla's location . . . and was a little disturbed to be told that not only was she in the apartment, but that she had been all day. Switching off the monitor first, he crossed the outer room to peer into Nayla's suite. The loft was dark, but even from a distance he could tell that she hadn't been sleeping well.   
"Nayla?" he whispered, walking over to the open loft. She moaned softly and rolled away from the light of his optics, but didn't actually wake. He was somewhat reluctant to wake her, but something about the situation struck him as being deeply wrong.   
"Nayla? Hon, I think you need to wake up now. . . ."   
"Mmph . . . tired. . . ."   
"You've aready slept all afternoon, Nayla."   
"Like you care. Lemme 'lone. . . ."   
"Nayla. . . ."   
"Lemme 'lone . . . lemme sleep. . . ."   
With a defeated sigh, Variance withdrew from her suite. He was still worried about her, but her words stung. Three months was not very long in the grander scheme of things, but he had thought it was long enough for her to know that he _did_ care. He hadn't intended to let himself care about her, of course, but it had happened anyway.   
"Variance to Morpheus,"   
_"Morpheus here. I was wondering when you would get around to calling me . . . although I had expected you sooner."_   
"Yeah, well . . . I can't seem to do anything right today. . . ."   
_"Don't blame yourself for Neo, Variance. His enthusiasm all too often clouds his judgement. And his sense of tact. He certainly didn't mean to push you away; if he somehow failed to make it clear . . . do not doubt that he does love you."_   
"Excuse me if I feel uncomfortable discussing my difficulties with Neo with his _bondmate_. . . ."   
_"Why? Because you and I choose not to bind ourselves to each other?"_   
"Morpheus. . . ."   
_"Will you at least open your door? Or am I to stand in the hall for the whole of this conversation?"_   
Variance walked to his door in a haze of disbelief. Surely Morpheus hadn't been in the hall the entire time. Or worse, walking through the corridors of the downed cruiser. But when he opened the door, there was Morpheus, waiting for him. Acute embarrassment washed through him and for a moment he wished desperately to simple disappear. His discomfort was not eased in the least by the playfully indulgent smile that appeared on the senior telepath's face. For a brief instant, he was absolutely certain he couldn't be any more embarrassed if he tried. Then the marginally taller Autobot gently pushed him back into the apartment.   
"You have to actually let me in, Variance."   
His optics flickered as a shamed half-whimper slid out of his vocoder. _At least the hall's empty_, he told himself. He had never been more relieved in his life than he was when he heard the soothing hiss of his door closing.   
"Now then, dear one, if you didn't call to discuss Neo, what is it that troubles you?"   
"I suppose it's too late to say that I am not certain I'm comfortable with the idea of having any sort of intimate relationship with you. . . ."   
"Variance, I did not come down here to seduce you. You wanted my help. That you are Neo's lover is of little relevance to me. Should you later choose to bind yourself to him more completely . . . well, we shall deal with that when and if it happens.   
"Now, if you are quite finished making an idiot of yourself, what is wrong?"   
"I told you I can't do anything right," he sighed, refilling his glass before settling in his favorite chair once more. "Neo's furious, Nayla hates me, and now you're angry."   
"Variance," Morpheus sighed as he crossed the room to crouch before the moody tactician, "I'm not angry. Neo's pride was stung, yes, but he's hardly furious. If anything, he's annoyed with himself for pushing you. As for Nayla, I doubt very much that she hates you."   
"She thinks I don't care. . . ."   
"Hardly the same as hating you," the warrior-priest murmured gently. "She's probably feeling a little . . . out of sorts right now. Today is the first time her link to you has ever been blocked by someone other than herself."   
"Blocked. . . ?"   
"Yes. You two _did_ block her out before you got too carried away, right?"   
"Er, um, I don't even know if I _can_ block her, let alone how. . . ."   
"Oh dear Primus . . . if he didn't block her, I'm going to have him flogged," Morpheus muttered. Variance sat in a confused muddle, watching as the dark warrior surged to his feet and hurried to Nayla's suite. Curious inspite of an instinctual warning that perhaps he did not want to get involved, he pulled himself to his feet and followed his commander. The black spymaster stood at the edge of the open loft, his voice incredibly gentle despite the anger Variance could almost feel radiating off of him.   
"Nayla? Nayla, it's Morpheus. . . ."   
Guilt whispered though Variance when the girl looked up with tear-stained cheeks. Dark eyes focused on Morpheus, unseeing at first, then clearing. After only a moment's hesitation, she stumbled out of bed and to Morpheus, fitting herself into the groove between the grillwork on the telepath's chest and his shoulder. It was unlikey to be very comfortable, especially since she was only wearing a nightshirt, but Nayla burrowed against the dark metal of her mentor and wept. Feeling like an intruder, Variance withdrew.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla molded herself to the rigid form of Morpheus's body, fitting between his chest and upper arm. Despite the chill air, she took comfort in his presence, his body actually warming to her touch. After only an instant, his other hand swept around to comfort her.   
"Shh," he whispered soothingly, "it's all right, little one. Let me share your thoughts?"   
"Always, master," she rasped between choked sobs. She felt his presence wrap around her, warming her soul. Her tears slowly stopped falling, but she remained huddled against him, inspite of his alienness. Or perhaps it was precisely that alienness that made him feel so safe.   
_Oh Nayla. . . . No wonder you hurt_, his mindvoice murmured, soothing her further. _I am sorry, dear one, for his thoughtlessness and her poor judgement. Later I'll show you how to block them yourself.   
It isn't fair!_   
"Shh . . . hush, dear one," he whispered softly, surprising her by actually speaking aloud.   
"Why?" she whispered urgently. "Why could he not be happy with me? Why must I love him so desparately?"   
"I do not know, my dear, but why this jealousy? Why can you not take joy in his pleasure?"   
"Because I do not make him happy . . . _he_ does!"   
"Oh Nayla . . . you mustn't blame Neo for this. . . ."   
"He stole him from me, stole away my happiness. . . ."   
_Variance still cares for you, Nayla. Is he now not allowed to love any but you?   
He does not love me_, she sent back sullenly. _I am little more than a nuisance to him.   
You do him a disservice to think so little of his feelings for you_, Morpheus chided gently. _He was worried about you, that's why I'm here._   
"It is?"   
"Yes, babydoll," he whispered with a small smile. She playfully swatted at his shoulder, chucking softly inspite of herself. His supporting hand dropped away in silent invitation and, after a moment, Nayla stepped away from his side, swiftly retreating behind a dressing screen.   
"Now that you have seen that I am well, will you be leaving?"   
"If you wish it. Or I can stay, if you would rather. It is up to you."   
Nayla didn't say anything, but then she knew she didn't need to speak for him to understand. She felt his acceptance of her unspoken wishes, a warm whisper of his support that drifted through the silence.   
He was still waiting for her when she stepped back around the screen. So was Variance, although he seemed strangely uncomfortable, lingering at the door.   
_Talk to him, little one_, Morpheus's mindvoice whispered through her thoughts. _Let him know you aren't angry with him.   
Angry? Why would he think I was angry?   
Talk to him_, the senior telepath repeated. He offered her a reassuring smile, then slipped from the room. She tried to gather her thoughts, but suddenly alone even in her own mind, they scattered like leaves in the wind.   
"Why would you --?"   
"I'm sorry," she blurted out, interrupting his question. Variance stood in her door, stunned. Then again, she rarely actually told him she was sorry for anything.   
"You are my life," she sighed. "I am . . . glad you have found your happiness."   
"You are?"   
"I am sorry I snapped at you."   
"I _do_ care about you, Nayla," the tactician murmured softly. "And I'm sorry if Neo and I upset you."   
"It is not your fault your lover is a thoughtless ass," she grumbled, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it had been the wrong thing to say.   
"I am sorry," she sighed. "That was unworthy of me."   
"Please . . . at least _try_ not to hate him, Nayla," he sighed in response. "He has been a light in my darkness and I love him very much."   
_**I** could have been that light_, she thought to herself, but she did not share it, burying it deep within her. Variance deserved every happiness . . . even if he didn't find it in her.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Though time was said to be a great healer, the passage of days into weeks, the transition from late December to early March, provided little comfort to Nayla. The girl tried to find some good in Neo, but Variance could tell it was not easy for her. He only wished he knew why. Then again, Neo wasn't exactly making an effort to impress her.   
"I wish there was some way. . . ."   
Neo sighed, which was answer enough. Albeit not the answer for which Variance had been hoping. He was tired of being caught between them, but neither seemed willing to breach the rift between them, not even for his sake. And that alone was nearly as tiring as their feuding.   
"I shuffled my duty shift to spend time exploring _you_, not to discuss Nayla's personal issues."   
"Neo. . . ."   
"I know, I know, but she could at least meet me halfway."   
Variance refrained from commenting that Nayla had made the same complaint. On several occasions. Instead he shifted his hold on his lover slightly. Neo chuckled, rolling over to push himself up onto his hands. The charcoal operative straddled his lover, a playful smile lighting his face.   
"Speaking of exploring you, I do believe there is some untouched territory yet to cover," he teased, cobalt optics darkening with desire.   
Variance smiled and cupped Neo's face, drawing him into a warm kiss. He knew he shouldn't let Neo win by seducing him, but his ability to resist his lover had never been strong. Particularly when Neo was feeling determined. And the fire that raced through him at the telepath's touch only proved to him how determined Neo was feeling.   
The phantoms of resonance sent shivers through his very core, the countering warmth of his lover's mental presence tingling across his skin. Neo's mind slid around and through his thoughts, tantalizing as much as the spy's nips to his neck.   
_Be one with me_, the silken voice purred, delicate fingers teasing along his aerofoil. Variance mentally recoiled from the suggestion. As much as he loved Neo, the thought of binding himself to the dark spy still scared him. He tried to rationalize it away as a justifiable worry for what might happen. After all, they had no idea what it might do to Nayla; she had already suffered ill effects just from them not always shielding her out as they should. Moreover, he wasn't sure what would happen between himself and Morpheus.   
_Variance, my darling beloved_, Neo's 'voice soothed, _fear not. I love you and only long to be with you._   
A warm haze enfolded his thoughts as Neo drew him back to the very brink of bonding. A piece of him _did_ want to bond with Neo, but he was beginning to lose perspective. More and more, all his mind could comprehend were the burning flames of desire and longing, and the warmth of love surrounding them both.   
Resonance and burning passion wrapped around him like a blanket. He felt lost in the sensations, adrift with Neo's presence beside him. And then Neo wasn't beside him . . . because his entire being was rushing through him. Secrets and desires, longings and achievements, everything Neo had ever been or wished to be was flickering through him, overwhelming him. One piece of himself was changed forever and Neo . . . Neo was everywhere. For a moment too short to comprehend and yet too long to be real, there was three. Then all individual thought fell away as Variance and Neo became one. 


	6. Chapter 5: Alone Beyond Tears

  
**Author's Note:** The second book of TF: Lux Eterna. And yes, this is a completed fic, so don't ask when I'll be updating it, okay? ~_^   
**Warnings:** Death, destruction, mayhem, telepathic teens, robo-yaoi, mostly OCs   
**Disclaimer:** Transformers and it's canon characters belong to Hasbro/Takara. I claim all the OCs and take full responsibility for conjuring up the plotline of this fic. Lyrics quoted as listed.   
  


* * *

**If You Be Only Human**   
_Chapter 5: Alone Beyond Tears_

_And if you have to leave,   
I wish that you would just leave.   
Cause your presence still lingers here,   
And it won't leave me alone.   
These wounds won't seem to heal,   
This pain is just too real   
There's just too much that time cannot erase_   
- Evanescence, "My Immortal"  
  


March, 2002

Nayla felt herself dragged into the first instant of the new bond. She could feel Variance's surprise . . . and Neo's gloating. Then Neo roughly shoved her away. The snap back to reality left her reeling and unsteady. If she had not already been sitting, she would have fallen.   
"Nayla? Easy, little one, easy. . . ."   
She looked up at Morpheus in bewilderment. How had he come to be there? And for that matter, why was she sitting on the floor at his feet? She was quite certain that she had been in her loft, sitting on her bed only a moment before.   
"This is not a side effect I would have expected," the warrior priest rumbled as he lifted her up to his shoulder. "What happened?"   
"I . . . I was sorting my homework and then suddenly I was overwhelmed by Variance and Neo. _That_ was a most disorienting experience. Then Neo pushed me away. I knew I needed to see you . . . and then you were here. . . ."   
"More like _you_ came to _me_, little one," the black warrior replied with a gentle smile. Nayla looked arund, startled to find herself in the private room Morpheus shared with Neo.   
"I teleported? But . . . but I don't remember even trying! I've always had to concentrate before . . . and I've never 'ported _myself_!"   
"It would seem that now you have," her mentor replied quietly. "I suppose it was inevitable. But what do you mean you were overwhelmed by Variance and Neo? He didn't forget to shield you out again, did he?"   
"No . . . no, this felt more like . . . like I was drawn into it. Whatever it was, Neo wasted no time in shoving me away. I have not been able to sense Variance since."   
She could feel Morpheus listening for the words she did not say, absorbing her experiences as she recalled them. It was not pleasant for her; Neo had flaunted his relationship with Variance before, but this time had felt different. And when she was done, a crystalline anger burned through him, the like of which she had never seen before.   
"Go home," he whispered, his voice a dangerously low tone. "Go home, Nayla, and wait for Variance to return."   
Fear gripped the pit of her stomache, but she dared not go against Morpheus's desires. She focused on herself, using all the same tricks she remembered from shifting other objects to ger her back to her apartment. It worked, but she could tell even as she did it that here had to be a better way.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Variance was awakened abruptly by the forceful presence of Morpheus. He had no idea how the telepath had gained access to the room, nor did he know why. He was reasonably certain, however, that the commander's wrath would soon be unleashed.   
"How dare you!" the spymaster growled as he jerked Neo to his feet. "How _dare_ you! You have broken our most sacred rules. You have violated the very thing for which we fight an die! How _dare_ you presume to steal away his right to chose?!"   
"I didn't _steal_ anything!" Neo hissed back. "I gave him what he wanted, what he was too afraid to ask for himself.   
"And did it not occur to you, pupil mine, that he might have good reason for his reticence?"   
"Bah! That girl. . . ."   
"That girl is worth more than your hide right now," Morpheus growled in low warning. "Variance, go home. Rest there. You need not witness any more of this."   
"He is --"   
"I know what he is, Variance. Now do as I say."   
Any further argument died unsaid at the baleful glare from the spymaster. He knew he had some rights as Neo's bonded mate . . . but Morpheus possessed them as well. And more as their command and as senior telepath. But mostly, Variance fled because he dared not refue Morpheus's wrath.   
He was feeling decidedly unwell by the time he reached his apartment. Neo's emotions had turned into a dark and vicous broil that roiled through his thoughts, a miasma of anger emanating from their new-forged bond.   
Bonded. By Neo's will. Oh, he couldn't say that he wdidn't _want_ Neo as his bondmate . . . but he hadn't chosen. Neo had, for both of them, purposefully fogging him with pleasure until he hadn't been able to do anything but what Neo wanted.   
"Well . . . I hope you are happy. . . ."   
Variance's head jerked up at the bitter tone of Nayla's voice. The teen stood in the door to her suite, obviously angry. He tried to piece together what could have her so enraged, but the cloud of dark emotion streaming from Neo was making it hard to concentrate.   
"You selfish bastard. . . ."   
"Nayla. . . ."   
"Did you even stop for one moment to consider what might happen to me?"   
"Nayla. . . ."   
"I have given you _everything_, and this is how you repay me?"   
"Nayla, please. . . ."   
"I gave you my life!" she screamed, and for a moment he thought she might actually go so far as to throw something at him.   
"Nayla, please believe me when I say I have never wanted to hurt you. . . ."   
"Well you failed," she growled, turning around abruptly and stalking back into her room. Variance sank deeper into his chair, absently rubbing his left temple. Everything had been going so well. . . . How had he managed to make everything go so terribly wrong?   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla cancelled her classes for the rest of the week, refusing to even see Render when her tutor tried to find out why. She refused to see anyone, particularly Variance. And while she knew it wasn't wise, her anger with the tactician was too strong.   
It was late on the fourth day before she finally re-emerged from her room. The antechamber was empty, so she left the apartment, making her way through the night-darkened cruiser to the main rec room. It was mostly empty, of course, but there were a few Autobots present. The Dinobots were sitting quietly at the far end of the room, crowded around a vid screen as they watched a James Bond movie. At one of the side tables, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were quietly discussing something over steaming mugs, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. And in another corner of the room, Skids was patiently teaching Valkyrie how to play what looked surprisingly like _t'khat_. She didn't really feel like socializing, but she also didn't feel like being alone. So she ordered a moderately extravagant meal from the replicator and found herself a safe place to sit where she could still see the movie. Not that she was a great fan of the Brosnan Bond, but it was better than nothing.   
"Not seen you in many days. Others worried," Swoop whispered, much to the annoyance of his brother Dinobots. She didn't say anything, mereling smiling as she sipped her tea. Really, she didn't know what to say, nor did she wish to disturb the other Dinobots.   
"Nayla okay?"   
"Swoop! Quiet! Us _trying_ to watch movie!" Slag growled with a surprisingly good-natured grin. Nayla fought down a giggle at Swoop's silently apologetic look; the movie was mostly over anyway. In fact, the movie ended before she was more than half finished with her dinner. Swoop smiled at her briefly, then left with his brothers.   
"Interesting company you keep. . . ."   
"Hmm? Oh . . . hello Sunstreaker, Sideswipe."   
"Haven't seen you in quite awhile," Sideswipe commented off-handedly.   
"No, I . . . have not been interested in companionship."   
"Would it bother you if we used this screen?"   
"N-no, of course not," she replied quietly, surprised to have been even asked. Particularly since it was Sunstreaker who was asking. The yellow warrior was well know for his disregard for other Autobots. How she rated any better, she didn't know.   
"Geh . . . remind me why I agreed to this, Sun?"   
"Because this is the only free space in your schedule for the next ten days. Now stop whining and get to work!"   
"Jawohl, Herr Sonne!" Sideswipe replied with a crips salute and a cocky grin.   
"Perhaps I should leave. . . ."   
"No, no, please stay. It's just squadron shuffling. But you have to promise not to tell anyone about this. Mum's the word and all that."   
"Right. If the others knew how we planned rotations, they'd lynch Sideswipe in a New York minute. Besides, you haven't finished your dinner yet."   
Both brothers favored her with amused smiles before turning their attention to the videoscreen. To her increasing bemusement, the two brothers were shuffling the duty roster and shifting personnel, not based on logic or strategic value, but by the chance of darts. They would override anything that seemed too strange or unworkable, but for the most part, they let random chance reign.   
"Gah! Why does that little twerp always end up under my command?"   
"He doesn't _always_ end up with you. Last time, we stuffed him on monitor duty."   
"And he's bitched about it every day since. Ungrateful little bastard. You'd think he'd be happy to get off night watch, but is he? Noooo . . . of course not!"   
"So throw him at Ironhide. They're suited to each other."   
"You should trade Neo and Stiker," Nayla suggested calmly, cradling her cup of tea in both hands as she studied the complete duty roster.   
"Eh? Hmm . . . well, that _would_ give him more open shifts to match with Morpheus," Sideswip mused.   
"And put him in opposition to Variance," Sunstreaker noted dryly. The yellow warrior gazed down at her while his brother frowned at the roster. She could feel his optics on her, but she didn't look up at him.   
"But then that's why you suggested it, isn't it?" the golden commander murmured.   
"Still mad at 'im, eh?" Sideswipe added gently.   
"I have every right. . . ."   
"Why? Because he chose something for himself without consulting you first? Don't you think that's a little . . . childish?"   
"You think I am suggesting this because of _Variance_?"   
"Aren't you? Aren't you doing this because you still haven't forgiven him?"   
"Even in death, I would forgive Variance every sin," she murmured, not looking up at either Autobot. "I could do no less. . . ."   
"Then . . . why? What's Neo ever done to you?"   
Suddenly aware that she had nearly said too much, Nayla hurriedly excused herself and rushed out of the room. She was running by the time she reached the apartment she shared with Variance. Not wanting him to know anything was wrong, she stopped to catch her breath and school herself to calm.   
Once she was satisfied with her own semblance of calm, Nayla entered the apartment. However, she nearly lost hold of her control when she saw Variance stretched out on his couch, his head pillowed on Neo's lap. They didn't even look at her, and she was secretly glad for that as she ran into her suite. She couldn't slam the door, so she substituted several furious kicks instead before storming up to her loft and collapsing on the bed. Weak sobs shook through her uncontrollably. It was stupid, it was selfish . . . but she hated even the sight of the charcoal-hued telepath who had stolen everything from her.   
  


* * * * * 

  
"She's still upset, isn't she?" Variance murmured, flinching at the muted sounds of Nayla's temper tantrum.   
"Why do you ask me these things?" Neo replied softly, gentle fingers skimming along his flank. "Particularly when you already know the answer?"   
"I guess I keep hoping she'll . . . I don't know . . . calm down, a little anyway. All this anger can't exactly be good for her. . . ."   
"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but have you tried talking to her?"   
"Yes, and she refused to see me."   
"So override the lock . . . if there even is one."   
"That would be an invasion of her privacy. Besides . . . since when do you care?"   
"I don't care about Nayla . . . but I _do_ care bout you. And I think you really need to talk to her," he replied quietly. For some reason, his answer only made Variance even more suspicious.   
"Why?"   
"As if you don't know. . . ."   
"Really, I don't."   
Neo gazed down at him with a faint frown, and for a moment, Variance felt as if his bondmate was staring into the depths of his soul. Perhaps he was. . . .   
"She loves you," he said simply a moment later.   
"What?"   
"She loves you."   
"No, you must be mistaken. . . ."   
"Ask her if you don't believe me. But why would I lie?"   
Variance sat up abruptly, studying the door to Nayla's suite as if it held answers. It didn't, of course, only unanswered questions.   
"Go talk to her," Neo urged gently, all but pushing him to his feet. Variance wanted to stay with Neo; they had both been so busy lately that he barely even saw his bondmate. But the situation with Nayla wasn't going to just go away. He needed to do something about it, before it could get any worse.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Nayla only faintly heard her suite's door open, then hiss shut. She wanted to pretend that she hadn't heard even that, but the sound of metal footsteps was not so easily ignored. Not when they brought with them a psychic assault of concern.   
"Nayla?"   
She shivered at the sound of his voice, but there was no point in pretending; in another two steps he would be able to see her.   
"Please . . . just go away," she hiccupped, trying to push aside her own weakness. She didn't want him to see her crying, if only because she knew he didn't care.   
"Nayla . . . why didn't you tell me?"   
She didn't have to ask him what he meant; she could feel his hurt anger. Both emotions surprised her. If anything, she had expected him to be annoyed with the foolish little human who had allowed herself to fall in love with an Autobot.   
"What was I supposed to say?" she demanded, surprised at the bitterness in her voice.   
"You could have said something," he replied defensively.   
"Oh yes," she mocked, "so easy for you to judge. You who has never known what it is to love someone you could not have. So tell me, oh great and wise Variance, just what was I supposed to say?"   
"Nayla. . . ."   
"Did you think I was merely offering you empty words? You are my life . . . but I have never been foolish enough to think I add any meaning to yours. . . ."   
"Nayla, you _are_ important to me. I owe you my happiness. Without you . . . after Dana's death, I had no intention of letting anyone into my life again."   
"If that is intended to soothe me. . . ."   
"I will not lie to you or make empty promises . . . but neither will I claim that I don't care about you. . . ."   
"About me, but not _for_ me. Can you not see the difference? Can you not understand why I said nothing? If you were human. . . .   
"But if you were human, we would not have met. . . ."   
"Is this why you will not even consider making peace with Neo?"   
"Peace? By the gods, Varianace, what more do you want from me? How can you ask that I make peace with the one who has stolen everything from me?"   
"I was never yours," he responded stiffly. "You have no right --"   
"To be jealous? To hate him? After so long, can you still have so little understanding of what it is to be human?"   
"Nayla. . . ."   
"If you were human . . . but you are not. And I have been a fool to fall in love with an alien incapable of ever returning those feelings," she muttered turning away from him. Silence stretched between them, a silence in which she had to fight with all her strength to keep from breaking down once more.   
"For all that you say I have no understanding of humans . . . you have much to learn about my kind as well," he murmured at last. She gasped as he ran a finger up her spine, but when she turned to confrontt him, the tactician was gone.   
_No . . . no it was nothing_, she told herself firmly. _Some game he is playing with me, though I dearly wish I knew why.   
Nayla, Nayla,_ she scolded herself. _You have been such a fool. To think you, a silly little girl, could ever make someone love you. . . . You have only yourself to blame for your tears. . . .   
But by all the gods, why must I love the very person I can never have?_   
She stared at her altar, waiting for some answer, but none came. She thought she was beyond crying for herself. She thought she had no more tears to shed. As Nayla stared into the depths of a single candle's flame, silent tears slipped down her cheeks, the tears of one who knows she will always be alone.   
  
  


**_End of Book Two: If You Be Only Human_**


End file.
